dollar store

something about the dollar store 
keeps me forever humble. 
i actually love to go there
because it keeps me small, 
reminds me to remain grateful 
when i have nothing 
and still appreciate when 
i have plenty.
i never ever want to think myself
too good to go there.  
somehow almost every time i 
enter the dollar store, 
i usually look like complete 
shit.
my hair is thrown in a 
greasy mangy bun, 
i've got disheveled 
mismatched clothes
and my coke bottle glasses 
are shoved on my face 
in haste. 
i've had my share of 
ugly rough looking 
seasons
and i know how easily it is 
to become invisible 
when looking like that. 
i either don't get looked at 
at all, 
or am onced-over in disgust. 
so looking like a railroad dweller
and walking into 
even somewhere as simple as 
the dollar store,
i keep my head down 
and try and get in and get out. 
and every. time. 
i am met with 
genuine kindness. 
i am sought out and asked 
how i can be served. 
the lady looks me in the eye, 
with respect and dignity 
and personally escorts me to the 
kleenex and paper towel 
or what ever in sam hill 
i am looking for. 
i am humbled to the core 
by the kindness shown to me. 
other times
i find myself at the dollar store 
because the bank account is 
painfully low 
and there isn't much to stretch 
between slow season 
and bustling working season. 
usually we make it 
[and we are so thankful]
but just sometimes 
we run to the end of the provisions 
a little earlier 
than expected 
and there's a few 
d r y w e e k s 
before the money starts to 
flow again. 
i recently was in that 
very season 
the kids and i sitting in the 
parking lot 
scrounging around for 
loose change 
so we could at least grab 
a box of cereal 
and maybe a snack for 
school lunch
the next day. 
i had a crumpled up dollar bill, 
a few quarters i found at the bottom 
of my purse 
and ben found some loose coins 
on the passenger side van floor. 
we walked inside 
not taking time to browse this time 
[why would we- we didn't have extra to spend] 
we found a very 
generic obscure off brand 
of honey nut cheerios 
and a little box of 
[offbrand] swiss cake rolls. 
that would have to do. 
we made our way to the cashier 
and i gripped my change 
counting and recounting 
and panicking a little. 
everything plus tax right?
i counted agin 
and told her softly 
i might have to put back an item 
because i forgot about the added tax..
the fellow in line behind me reached forward 
and offered me some change.
i could have hugged him. 
my heart made so low 
that i can't even afford a box of 
damn cheerios 
and i look like poop 
and all three of my littles 
are standing there with 
brown expectant eyes..
ah, Lord. 
how you humble and soften me. 
how you use the dollar store 
to bring glory and honor to Yourself
and bring me to my 
little wobbly knees. 
i thanked him and handed her the money. 
the fellow smiled with kind eyes 
and said hopefully 
"i think there's no tax on food!"
but he still insisted i keep the money. 
like i said, 
that dollar store...
always teaching me lessons,
keeping me desperate for Jesus, 
and stripping away the 
outside of person mattering
less 
and getting to see the real gift 
of a person's inner character...
[myself included]