Burdens

I was picking up a book at the library one day when I saw a rundown black car pull up. A woman began to painfully extricate herself from the drivers seat. Her clothes were shabby, hair dishevelled, posture bent. Her overall appearance gave the strong impression that the world had kicked her around a bit. She looked up and, seeing me walking toward her, began to wave at me and called out in a raspy voice, “Hey, can you come over here and help me?”

I walked over to see what she needed. “These bags are just too heavy for me,” she said. “I can’t manage them any more. Would you mind carrying them into the library for me?” I looked in the car and noticed two small-ish grocery bags containing DVDs of what looked like every cheesy B movie the library possessed. I looked in vain for anything else that might fall into the category of “things heavy enough to require assistance” but all I could see was garbage and a thick layer of dust. “These?” I gently inquired, pointing to the two bags. “Yeah, would you mind?” she implored.

I reached in and grabbed the two bags and carried them into the library for her. There was virtually nothing to them. A small child could have carried them easily. “Thank you so much,” she gushed as I bid her a good day and began to walk out the door. “It was nothing at all,” I said, thinking that for once this statement might not be soaked in hyperbole and false humility. It almost literally was nothing. I wondered how on earth this woman could possibly consider two light bags of DVDs to be a burden requiring assistance. I shrugged, smiled and moved on with the day.