My Beautiful Trip to the Grocery Store...

I was getting my few items from the grocery store shelves, when I noticed a sista crying. She kept her head turned away from people. Although everything in me wanted to hug her, listen to her, and comfort her I knew this this time was not that time.

As I stood in the line, I heard the familiar sniffing and decided that the least I could do was leave my change like I usually do. Maybe, that would me both of us feel a little better. As the manager came over to handle a problem from a previous customer, we began to talk like we always do. I wasn't paying attention and neither was the tearful sista behind me and the cashier rang up some of her food with my order. The thunder cracked, the lightening flashed, and I "Kawo-ed" as the cashier tried to remove her items from my order. His nerves were already shot from the issue he had with the customer before me. I gently touched his arm and asked, "Are you having a problem removing her items from my order?" He answered nervous and frustrated, "Yes, but I can get it off." I patted him and said, "Just leave it on there. It's fine. Don't even worry about it." He looked confused as I walked away.

I laughed when I noticed all the coiffed and weaved sistas waiting for their men to bring the cars around. I listened to them yelling because the brothas couldn't get the car as close as they wanted. I listened as the rain pounded the cars sounding like steel drum melodies. I strolled pass them all thinking, "I'm shole glad I got good hair."  That's what I say when it rains, and I am loving the fact that I no longer fear it because my hair is fly whether wet or dry. I stepped into the rain, and my shoes became a slippery hindrance. Because the rain had washed the ground clean I stopped between all the hollerin' brothas and sistas fighting for parking spaces to avoid the rain. I bent down and removed my shoes, retucked my lapa, and strolled to my car. I strolled. I didn't rush, not...one...bit. I let it wash me clean. I let it bless me. I let it revive me. I watched a brotha in socks and flip flops hip hop through puddles, all the while I was thinking,"You can't win. Just take off your shoes and sanctify this ground." As I got in the truck. I reflected on the beautiful simplicity that I'd just experienced. I prayed for rain to water my revive my garden. Who knew I it would revive my soul? Ase