My kids rarely accompany me when I’m trying to do business in public places. They play too much. The last time I was on a mission in Office Depot, my son was on the floor with all the universal shoe germs. But on Saturday morning, they had to get dressed and come to the post office with me to do a big thing: mail off the pre-sold copies of my book.
When I tell you, on this morning, my three were like angels… they watched me prep the packages the night before… at that time, I communicated details about my writing/ self-publishing process and answered their questions— cementing the significance of everything.
I could’ve done the job of printing off mailing labels on my own, but I was so anxious about messing up, I decided to take the old school approach: Have the postal worker manage each package one-at-a-time. I knew a line would form and that I’d probably be judged for holding up the line. But this was important. It was as if seeing the books go through this step was a part of the process. I had to do it this way, this time.
As the lady postal worker weighed each envelope and asked me to confirm each address, the sound of the label traveling melodically through the printing machine started to make me tear up.
My children were either clinging to the significance of the moment or starving and ready to eat. I wondered if the silence and patience gifted to me by my three and the other customers in the P.O. was because of a definite angel on site— the one who always knew how to hush me and keep me calm during my lofty pursuits.
By the time the postal worker touched the final package, I peeped back expecting to see scowls from the onlookers, but they were either entertained by their devices or smiling softly.
We stepped outside of the P.O. and I said audibly to myself, “I did it, Mama.” And then the tears came.
Upon exiting, I thanked everyone, hoping to have not been a great big inconvenience. I noticed that only 4 customers had been waiting in line. I checked the time on my phone and realized it had taken all of 15 minutes to see this part of the process through. I thanked God and my mother for keeping the mailing experience calm. It was a smooth and serene Saturday morning.
And my children, who clearly understood the assignment, got McDonald’s breakfast as a good behavior award.