Bruised Apples

As I sit here and crunch on a sweet Honey Crisp apple, I’m reminded of a story from Trader’s Joes last week.

Something about shopping at Trader Joe’s reminds me of the local grocery in my hometown. I think it’s the small store feel and caring atmosphere. It feels a bit wholesome.

My impression was solidified last Sunday when I stopped by to grab a few things. One of which was apples. I had some trouble finding any that didn’t have bruises on them but talked myself into buying them anyway figuring that I could just cut the bad parts off.

When I got to the checkout line, a friendly and caring cashier took a look at my apples and paused. It was clear she was contemplating saying something. She finally asked, “I’m not trying to be nosy about your apples, but some of these are bruised. Would you mind if I sent someone back to find some replacements?” She didn’t ask me if I wanted her to do that. I probably would have said no because I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. She said asked if I would mind. As if by saying yes, I was somehow doing her a favor. The young lady she sent back to grab new apples came back so excited to give me better apples explaining, “I have a lot of experience searching for the best ones. I’m very picky about my apples. How do these look?”

I found myself checking their name tags to see if “quality inspection” or “manager” were listed under their names. But no, they were simply going above and beyond because for some reason making sure that I enjoyed high quality apples mattered to them.

And everyday, I see educators going out of their way to ensure that small details in the student experience make them feel special and cared for. Most recently, I saw a team of middle school teachers had their students create flowers out of construction paper. They placed their names in the center. On the petals, the teachers wrote something that made them proud of each student or something they appreciated about them. Then, the teachers invited families to write about the students too. They made sure every student somehow, someway had their petals filled up with affirmations.

And to take it a step further, they took a picture of each student and put their little photo next to their flowers which were on display in the hallway. During class change, I was talking to one of the teachers about it. She explained that the pictures were an important addition. She wanted to put their faces with the words when she looked at each of them.

As I continued to look at each flower, I saw students lingering. They were wanting to show me which flowers belonged to them. They were so proud to have people read what was written about them.

No one has disturbed these flowers. Everyone is respecting how valuable and important they are because every student knows how much their own flower means to them.

Maybe somewhere along the way, that cashier was disappointed by bruised apples which bolstered her empathy.

All I know is that it felt special to have someone looking out for me that day. And I see educators looking out for kids in so many ways in our schools too. Perhaps they are extending kindness to students that one special person extended to them when they themselves were in school. And that’s the ripple effect. That’s a legacy of learning.

I didn’t feel like writing this week. It’s May. We are tired. But I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to thank and cherish the amazing people who look beyond themselves and care about others with little mosquito moves. Many of those people are working in schools, and I think that’s truly beautiful.