The
year was 1975 and I worked as a manager for a nationally known shoe
corporation. The State was Alabama and I managed a lease unit in a large
department store.
My shoe department happened to be in the
back of the store, and I usually found myself either waiting on customers or
putting out stock. One day a middle-aged man, and his almost grown son walked
up as I was walking towards the front of the store. And the father asked where
he could find a bathroom. I motioned towards the back wall, and gave them some brief instructions.
If I had conjured up a thousand
possibilities, I would have never dreamed up what happened next. I finished my chore, whatever it was, and headed back to my department. I remembered something I had to do in the stockroom and entered through and open doorway.
Suddenly before me, in all his glory, was
that same retarded young man…urinating on the floor of my stockroom. Well, it
didn’t take me long to scream at him… “Stop, what are you doing? This isn’t the
bathroom!”
Apparently, the boy’s father had directed
his son towards the back of the store, and the young fella headed towards a
door he thought was the bathroom.
I scared the young lad badly. Of that I’m
quite sure. He lost no time “zipping up,” and getting out of there. And I was
left to clean up the yellow, liquid mess.
I’ve thought of that incident many times
since then. I’m afraid I wasn’t very charitable to the boy. And I’m a little
ashamed of my words, and actions that day.
That young man is bound to be pushing
fifty now, and I think of him sometimes. If I could speak to him again, I’d
apologize for my sharp admonition. He was just “doing what comes naturally,”
and, considering his mental challenges, he had made an honest mistake.
There are those among us who don’t
function, who don’t operate as we do. It pays to be charitable. We have so much
of which to be thankful.
No comments:
Post a Comment