These days I am often in the middle of things. On Saturday morning, I started writing early, but stopped. My daughter walked into my office and asked for breakfast. I moved into the kitchen, pulled out the blender, grabbed some spinach, a pineapple, a half orange and a sliver of lemon and threw it in the canister and pushed the blend button. While the roar rang in my ear, I noticed that my iPhone flashed. The ring wasn’t totally unexpected. My mom always calls in the morning. It is a ritual that comforts and represents a part of my daily routine since I left my childhood home. I let the call go to voicemail, because I couldn’t properly talk to my mom while trying to navigate breakfast with my daughter.
As she gulped her green smoothie and scarfed down some eggs, I decided to grab my laptop and move in and out of my virtual world of Twitter and Facebook. While browsing some blog posts, I made a to-do list. On the list, getting groceries took the number one spot. I left the morning dishes in the sink, realizing that I wanted to beat the rush of others racing around the store wanting to check off their own to-do list. I yelled for my daughter to get dressed and grabbed my keys. We headed out the garage door into my car and on the way there, yet another stop. A few bills needed mailing so I asked my daughter to drop them in the slot.
I rounded the corner and headed to the parking lot. We grabbed the closest cart and my daughter clamored for the free samples even though we hadn’t even made it past the metal sliding doors. I told her that Momma had a list and we weren’t about to grab any extras. As we made our way through the aisle, my daughter saw a motorized scooter with not one, but two people on it. She grabbed my sleeve and said, “Look, Momma, they look like the Little Couple.” I glanced over and nodded, noting that indeed, she spotted two little people who were maneuvering their way around the aisle.
We grabbed a few more essentials and as we exited one particular lane, I noticed the motorized scooter and the gentleman, trying to grab an item from the frozen food section. His height prevented him from reaching, but his voice helped him move toward his goal. I watched as he asked a woman on a cell phone to help him grab the item. The woman responded and helped him put the frozen bag in his cart. My daughter witnessed it too and said, “I am so glad he asked that lady to help. It must be hard for him.”
This exchange lingered in my mind over the weekend. I thought about how many of us are in the middle of things, moving from the carpool lanes to work to cooking dinner and tucking our kids at night. How many of us are reluctant to ask for help? Are we afraid that we might reveal too much? Show our vulnerabilities? We all struggle, even when we are so careful to make others think otherwise.
I realized a particular epiphany, in the middle of things, on a random Saturday morning. The importance of raising your voice. Asking for help. What’s the worse that can happen? Someone might be willing to lend a hand.
You won’t know, unless you ask.
Image: Middle by Cath in Dorset via Flickr.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
What a sweet story, Rudri. Asking for help can be really hard, especially when you are afraid of hearing No.
I agree, Luanne. Asking for help isn’t an easy task, but sometimes extending a hand might hold an unexpected good surprise. Thanks for chiming in.
You’re right, you never know unless you ask. This weekend we were in a position to be asked several times for help and unfortunately not all could be granted…we were in a nursing home. The many patients called out to passerby for assistance to get in bed, to use the toilet, for water…The most we could do was get the appropriate staff there to help them as physically handing them to put them in bed etc…could jeopardize their health. Mostly, we gave a listening ear to the many who just wanted to be heard. Nursing home always make me sad; so many patients in need and understaffed.
Aww, Susan, that is so hard to witness. When people are physically unable to offer the kind of help that someone needs, it really hits in the gut. I am glad that you could listen to their troubles – that’s equally important. Most people are seeking affirmation of some kind.
This is beautiful Rudri.
Thanks, Jennifer. I am glad it resonated with you.
I think what’s also nice is that most people feel better for helping others. Puts a bright spot on both people’s days 🙂
Yes, Nina, it tends to uplift both parties. When we witnessed it, the circle grew even wider. A domino effect all around.
I love that you noticed this interaction. When I see things like that, not only does it remind me to be more alert to those around me who might need help (in any form), but it also restores my faith in humanity, often when I need it most. A really touching glimpse of something extraordinary in the mundane details of our daily lives. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks, Kristen. There is a certain exquisite quality to that one simple exchange that we witnessed. I am so grateful that my daughter noticed it as much as I did. It is so affirming and it served as a much needed reminder for me as well – I need to ask for help more often too.
THat is a nice story.
I have a good friend with dwarfism. I honestly forget it most of the time. One day she asked me for a glass of water and reminded me, “You know, I can’t reach the glasses in your house!” I was like, “Oh!! I’m so glad you told me.” So often we are close friends and we do our close friends things and I forget. I just forget.
I love that you forget that your friend has dwarfism. It is the power of familiarity. My husband worked with Jen Arnold of the Little Couple and because of this connection my daughter gained an awareness about dwarfism and seems more focused on the person rather than the disability.
Your daughter is wise. Sometimes it’s hard to ask for help but it’s good when we do. I had an interaction with a elderly lady that could not pay her hospital bill for her chemo. She claimed that the hospital didn’t care that she did not have the money that is necessary for her treatment. I immediately wrote down a phone number of an outreach center in the area, I told her that if she shares her story they will help her. I know they will. It’s important to share.
Yes, Ayala. It is certainly important to encourage people to share their vulnerabilities. When you are opening to being helped, the world can surprise you.
I am definitely one that doesn’t like asking for help – mostly because I like to do things myself, i always feel I’m inconveniencing others. I know the feeling of constantly being in the middle of things; If I’m not in the middle of an activity, I’m in the middle of a thought – which leads to another thought and it’s non stop. Wonderful story and beautifully told. Have a great one Rudri! -Iva
I know that it feels like a burden to ask another for help, but sometimes, there are people that feel so affirmed when they can offer some assistance. I do understand your dilemma about trying to do it yourself. I am learning (slowly) the power of raising my hand and saying I need help. It is a definite process.
I am reminded of several things in reading this lovely post. First – of the years of being “in the middle of things” – the need to be able to accommodate constant interruptions in my work day, as I was working from home with kids to pick up or drop off, and my own as well as their friends in and out, and needing attention.
I am also reminded that we often overlook the needs of others. It isn’t that we don’t care, but we prefer to stay at the surface, or we may find ourselves in the land of “there but for the grace of God go I…” or the belief system of your choice.
Fear (or discomfort) often prevents us from lending a hand.
On a very personal note, while I may not technically qualify as a “little person,” I am very tiny in stature. I frequently must ask for help in many stores – the most frustrating of which is (ironically) having to ask a sales person to assist in getting something off a rack in the Petites Department!
As for requesting assistance in the supermarket, it is now so routine for me, I don’t think twice about asking any stranger to help. And I always ask with a smile.
Excellent points, Wolf. I do think fear is a crippling factor. In these days where the media convinces us perfectionism is the norm, it might be hard for someone who feels less to ask for help. I am so glad that there are people who are doing the asking, as well as the helping. It is so affirming to witness.
I loved every word, Rudri. I think we are so often so reluctant to ask for help, especially when it’s assumed that everyone whom we could ask for help is “in the middle of things,” their own things. But we all need help, all of us as human beings. It’s important to find reminders of that truth in our daily lives.
Thanks, Jessica. I needed the reminder too. – in the middle of things is when we need to do the asking. Have a good weekend.