Emmanuel

Last week I was at CVS picking up a prescription when a pharmacy employee called out to me, "Mrs. Wood, how are you doing?" I recognized him right away, a tall, dark-skinned African. "I'm sorry, remind me of your name," I asked. "Emmanuel. Yes, now I remembered. Emmanuel, who was always looking out for my husband. How's Mr. Beckert?" he asked, and I had to tell him that he had passed last year in April. Emmanuel bowed his head and covered his face with his hands, mumbling words of sympathy. When I left, I waved to him. "May he rest in peace," said Emmanuel. Nothing cures the pain of grief, but little things like Emmanuel's compassion help. A lot.