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Inspiration Archives

Some Beans And A Few Green Tomatoes
By Cadi Nobles

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It had been a really hard day. The heat, the work, everything just seemed to have taken its toll. The fruit market had been busy, as usual, and I was ready to go home. I normally work as cashier, but that day they had told me to work the floor. We started work at 9 a.m. and by 8:30 p.m. we were just about closed.

We had closed the sides, swept the floor, and put all the vegetables in the cooler. Right before we shut the door an old frail-looking woman came up.

"Are you closing?" she asked.

"No, come right in!" I forced a rather fake-looking smile. It was obvious we were closing. Why did they always ask that?

She looked around for a little while and put a few small items on the counter. "Are you out of green beans? I sure do need some."

I hesitated, I had put them up with the rest of the vegetables. "No, not really. I've already put them up for the evening", then with some reluctance I added, "I could go back and get you some if you would like." Inside I was wondering why I had even asked. I should just get a bag and head back there. Of course she wants me to, I thought, it's me who has to do the work.

"Yes, please get me a couple pounds of beans and a few green tomatoes." she said with an odd sound of relief in her voice.

So, like I knew I would, I got a bag and headed for the cooler. Inwardly I was mulling over all the reasons I shouldn't have to do this. These customers just seem to think we live to serve, I thought. They come in the market and take their own sweet time shopping when they know we're trying to close. They just didn't know what serious problems I had. School work was looming over me, friends were suddenly acting very strange, and the boy I liked didn't even know I existed.

By the time I had made the short trip to the cooler, I had practically convinced myself that this work was basically slavery. I groped around and found the bushel of beans I had taken off display. As I started putting them in the bag something inside me seemed to say, go get her some of those pretty beans in the corner, they're fuller. I tried to ignore it, but the more I tried the more firm and demanding it became. So I dumped out what I had put in the bag and replaced them with the ones in the corner. This time I was a little more careful not to put in any ugly ones. Next came the tomatoes, again the voice advised, make sure to pick out some nice big ones.

So I made sure the tomatoes I picked out were nice, not out of concern for the customer, but simply because I was acting on command.

As I started back, I began to consider my problems even more. I really did need to get home, if I could just get rid of that last customer.

"Here are those beans and tomatoes, I picked you out the very best!" That was a pathetic thing to say. I knew it, but I really didn't care.

All of a sudden the lady reached out and gently put her hand on my shoulder. "Thank you so much, you don't know what that means to me. I'm going to take this food to my sister."

"Your sister?" A tinge of guilt began to creep up my spine.

"Yes. She is very old and very sick. The doctors sent her home the other day. They don't expect her to live to the end of the week. When I asked her what she wanted, she said a bowl full of beans and some fried green tomatoes. That's why I came, even though I thought ya'll might be closed." Her soft hand slowly fell back to her side.

I stared at her, not knowing what to say. Suddenly my "serious" problems seemed so small, not even worth mentioning. Yet just a couple of minutes before I would have sent her home with raunchy produce because of them. I felt unworthy to serve her and hypocritical for accepting her thanks. I was dizzy, the only thing I could think of was the verse that says, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

I managed to squeak out a shaky, but sincere word of encouragement and promised to pray. As she left, she looked me straight in the eye and said, "Thank you so much, your such a dear sweet girl."

Over the past year, I have often thought about that incident and what it taught me. To my knowledge I have not seen the little old lady since. I have had a lot of people suggest that it might be an angel. Although I do not doubt it, it doesn't matter to me. Whether she was a supernatural being or a person like you and me, she had a great effect on my life. For she taught me one of life's most valuable lessons, you can learn how to work, you can learn how to pray, but your life will never reach it's full potential until you take the time to understand and learn how to care

[About the author: Cadi is currently 24 years old and resides with her family in Kentucky. Her inspirational writings can be found in newspaper columns, short stories and poems. E-mail Cady.]

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