Costco-ish

Once upon a time (AKA Thursday) I came home for Christmas break. I went with my mother to Costco on Friday. I stood by our giant cart waiting for her as she discussed on the phone whether or not to get the peanut butter-filled pretzels for some family friends (I had already voted yes, but she wasn't quite convinced). I heard some people coming down the aisle, singing Christmas songs. Musta been a man and children. Smiling to myself and thinking, how awesome is that, I peeked around the corner to catch a glimpse of this family choir.

And there they were! A bald man with two little girls singing as they pushed their huge cart along--a bald man and two little girls that I recognized. He was one of my high school religion teachers, and the two girls were his two daughters. We exchanged hellos and news and then they had to head off. I smiled to myself again. It would be him and his daughters caroling through Costco.

Then my mom gets off the phone and round the corner swings more people we know! A coach of mine from junior high school, and her daughter. Again hellos. Again news. Again a brief but lovely talk followed by having-to-leaves, etc.

It's one of the things that just goes with coming home: seeing people you know. Seeing people you know at Costco, of all places. But it's nice. Nice to know that even when things change--and you're coming home because you've left home, and your little brothers are more like little men, and your old coaches and teachers kept living after you graduated from your time with them--that change doesn't change the pleasant little connections we've made. 

And I can chat in Costco with any of those people anytime.