The other day I had to do some banking. I love my bank. Everyone there is so friendly – except for one teller. It’s not that she’s mean or overtly unpleasant. It’s just that she always looks vaguely unhappy. And I’ve always somehow come away with the impression that she doesn’t like me.
So I wasn’t thrilled that she was the one to wait on me. But as she was processing my transaction, I had the sudden impulse to send her love.
Her back was turned to me. I just stared at her and imagined I was her mother, and sent warm waves of love across the room to her.
It sounds hokey, I know. But as she handed me my receipt something unusual happened. A warm, wide smile crossed her usually pinched face. And rather than turning away, she took a moment to chat.
A small miracle? Coincidence? You decide.