Lady, Are You Rich?

　　It was October 31st and the scene inside my local Safeway was surreal. This store is just blocks from Humboldt State University, and this late afternoon it was overrun by students dressed in creative costumes, carrying copious1 quantities of candy, chips, and beer in anticipation2 of Halloween parties they would soon be attending. I, a middle-aged3 woman just off work and shopping for needed groceries, felt strangely out of place.

　　Halloween is a holiday that has always created an internal struggle with my beliefs. I had reached a compromise years ago, choosing to see it as a pretend time for children, a time to embrace creativity and pretense4, and a time to laugh at fears from a place of security and in a safe situation. So during my parenting years, I joined in the fun, on occasion yelled "Boo!", dressed my children in fun costumes and took them around to neighbors for safe trick-or-treating. But this was different.

　　Today there were no children in these aisles5, and as I pushed my cart forward, the people and their costumes took on quite a hard edge. Although I was in awe6 of the students' creativity and attention to detail, I became increasingly uncomfortable as I encountered young people in creations realistically evil and socially degenerate7, who were rushing by with attitudes that seemed to match their attire8. A group that had just passed me had been downright rude and pushy9.

　　Travelling the aisles, I passed several witches and demons10 of the night, a pale-faced, blood-dripping vampire11, some hard-looking, scantily12 clad women I could only guess were pretending to be ladies of the evening. I did come upon a standout Elvis dressed in the white, studded costume Elvis impersonators like to wear, with the open front shirt, big belt, and carefully coiffed glossy13, black hair. This massive young man who stood about 6' 4", and his hair 4" above that, was most impressive. The girl with him was quite cute, dressed in a white sailor's uniform, but her refreshing14 charm quickly faded from memory as I turned and encountered more students costumed to celebrate the various evil spirits representative of this night.

　　I have long thought of this store's staff as one of the friendliest I had ever encountered. Usually the workers here made the chore of shopping enjoyable simply by their willingness to serve and their cheerfulness. But today, layoffs15 loomed16 due to a freight driver's strike over which this store had no control. No one knew when the strike might end. Many items were already missing from the shelves, and customers were starting to complain. The normal goodwill17 and friendly service had been replaced by a sense of tension and uncertainty18.

　　I entered the checkout19 area eager to finish my shopping and get out of the store. Everyone seemed to be rushing to be someplace else, and there was a strange edginess20 in the air. It troubled me. Waiting in line, I looked around for reassurance21, but all I saw were strangely acting22 people in even stranger costumes. No one was smiling. There was none of the usual friendly banter23. The girl in line behind me stared at me with hollow, worldly eyes. She wore excessive and harsh make-up. I could not decide if she was in costume or not, but I did sense her impatience24 and negativity.

　　I watched Elvis checking out at the stand next to me. I still found his costume entertaining, but his countenance25 now was one of hostility26, complete with snarly27 lip. Normally, I enjoy viewing human nature, but today I could not shake an overpowering sense of unease. It had permeated28 the entire store and was affecting us all.

　　My clerk was struggling to remain pleasant, but she was obviously tense and stressed. I felt anxious to get outside and escape the heavy feeling of unrest and discontent surrounding me. As the clerk scanned my last few items, a surprising sound, lovely and out-of-place, filtered through the sounds of rush. Shoppers' heads turned, attempting to find the source of the hauntingly beautiful music. As the slow sweet strains of an unfamiliar29 melody settled over the crowd, a silence enveloped30 all activity until only the pure sound created by the skillful play of a lone31 harmonica filled the store. The music was soulful and peaceful, and its unexpected beauty captivated me and all those around me. The unrushed continuing refrain settled over the strange crowd like a canopy32 of serenity33. No one dare break the moment by speaking. All work ceased.

　　My eyes searched in the direction of the music. Finally, I saw the source. Two checkout counters over from me stood a short, silver-haired lady with an amazing angelic face playing the harmonica. In awe I stared. We all stared. With the last poignant34 note still reverberating35 in the air, she lowered her harmonica, placed it in her matronly-styled black purse, and snapped the purse shut.

　　A few seconds of collective silence enveloped the previously36 bustling37 store. Then a spontaneous clapping filled the air. I looked around and saw vampires38, vamps, Elvis, and me all united in joy, across the generations, clapping in appreciation39 of the gift she had just given us. When the snarly-lipped Elvis dropped his façade, smiled openly and clapped wildly, I felt a strange, wonderful oneness with him.

　　Wearing a humble40, Mona Lisa-type smile, the giver of our joy quietly gathered her groceries and walked out of the store. We all watched in silent respect. After a few seconds, the hum of activity resumed, but with one major difference: We were all changed. For a few brief moments, beauty and peace had entered our world, and all stress had ceased. Around me, people wore wide-eyed expressions of amazement41 over the simplicity42 of the source, an unassuming, grandmotherly figure who solely43 orchestrated our metamorphosis. Stangely, there was no buzz around me as to why she did what she did. No analysis…only appreciation.

　　I walked to my car a changed person, marveling how one little, charming old lady had risked the possibility of personal ridicule44 to change for the better the mood of an entire grocery store without saying one word, but by speaking eloquently45 through her gift of soothing46 music-a gift not asked for, but sorely needed. Vamps, vampires, Elvis and I all heard and heeded47 the same powerful message played from her harmonica that Halloween-Peace on Earth and Goodwill to Men.