The Mask You Wear

I ran an errand on the way home from church today.   I wanted to organize the contents of my freezer  into plastic bins of some sort.  My sister told me that you can't beat the plastic containers at Dollar Tree because so inexpensive that if it cracks you won't care.   I happily approached the register with my new little bins in hand.   They were stacked together by type of bin as I placed them on the counter.  The cashier sighed heavily.  I politely asked if she would like me to separate them and she said no.

 I asked how she was and she ignored me.  Hmmm, I thought.   I asked if she liked football at all or if she was looking forward to the game.  She said she was cheering for Denver Broncos in the Superbowl because they had beat the Patriots.  I gently teased her 'hey, them's fighting words here in New England'.   Her response was a bit hostile 'I don't care.  I hate the Patriots'.  I just nodded my head and was wondering if I would ever shop at this store again.

But something made me look at her necklace.  And then I was prompted to look again.  She had a cross on a chain hanging in front of a ring.   So,  I told her that I really liked her cross.  She looked up startled and said 'WHAT?'   I gently repeated myself.  She got all teary eyed and told me it was her mother's and so was the ring.  She had recently lost her mom.  I told her that was such a wonderful thing to do keeping them close to her heart.  She thanked me for noticing them and for telling her.  I told her I'd lost my husband last year.  She lost her mom's brother just two weeks ago.  She questioned why all the folks carrying guns into schools and malls are allowed to live but good people are taken early.  I just nodded my head.  We exchanged a glance of understanding.  She smiled at me and wished me a good day.  I saw a different woman when she did.  I saw her true self.  I realized that all that anger was her mask.  A mask over the pain still so close to the surface.

On the drive home I felt gratitude that I'd been persistent.  This interaction probably took all of two minutes.   The homily today had been on the presentation of Jesus at the temple for a blessing and how each of us has the ability to bless others every day.  Perhaps I did that today.  I know that those few moments with that woman blessed me.  It led me to question what masks we all wear.

I recalled a book group meeting a couple months back.  The book we discussed was "The Art of Hearing Heartbeats."  One of the characters had chosen a difficult life path by marrying a man who admittedly did not love her.   She spent decades trying to change his feelings and ended up an angry and bitter person.  One woman in the book group expressed the view that that character had a right to be bitter.  I expressed the view that the character choose to be bitter.  If she had been more accepting and forgiving perhaps she could have been happier.  I said that I thought you could choose to be joyful even when enduring sorrowful events.  In subsequent discussion the woman in the book group shared that she was in the midst of caring for a very ill husband.  I came to suspect that she was projecting her own feelings onto the character.  She was developing a mask of anger.

And so I challenge you:  what mask will you wear?  As life unfolds and the decades begin to accumulate:  will it be a mask of anger?  or a mask of contentment?