As I was just about to walk out the door, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. All I could see were tired eyes and the evident gloomy bags underneath them. I was begging to look like my mother. Of course, it didn’t help that I was up all night with Cassandra who had the flu. Poor girl, she’s always sick. This morning I put on a hint of blush because I decided it was going to be a good day. And of course I had to have a smile on my face because tonight was my youngest of three’s birthday party. All of this seemed much easier when Dave was around. I long for him terribly, but the kids miss their dad something fierce. I took another look, inspecting myself. Wearing the required all black clothing, check. Cherry Lane smock, check. Lunches on the table for the kids, check. I was ready to go. As I arrived at the mall, I took mental note it was just as undisturbed as usual. Starting my day, I first empty all garbage cans and clear any garbage night custodians missed. One time last month I got called into the main office, thinking that I was going to get fired by my vulgar boss but he simply stated that I was an exceptional, thorough employee and that he was lucky to have me on staff. First time I’ve ever heard the guy bark more then two words let alone give someone a compliment. Nevertheless I took it to heart and continued my job the best I could because I had to. I am the main supporter for my family now. It was 10:15am and the mall now has a buzz about it. Managers began opening their stores and the regulars were pilling in starting their daily routines. I mind my own business, occasionally smiling at familiar faces and even some new ones. The part I love most about my job is that I get to, in some small way, change someone’s day. Sweep, mop, wipe, wash, and stack. This carries on for the majority of my day. Just before my lunch break, an old man bent over his cane softly coughs causing me to turn.
“Excuse me miss, I don’t mean to bother you but can you please wipe down my table?” he asks with a sincere smile on his face.
“Of course, I will just finish this up and I’ll be right over.”
As he slowly walks away I wipe down the rest of the stacked trays. When I’m done, I rush to his table and start clearing the mess. My walky-talky growls in my pocket.
Seeming interested, the elderly man asks, “Busy day?”
“It’s not too bad,” I replied, “Going by particularly fast today, it’s my son’s birthday today.”
“How lovely, how old is he turning?”
“Nine years old today! Looks like he’s almost sixteen though, he’s a tall kid. ”
He gently puts his soft wrinkled hand over my blue cleaning gloves. “He must be a lucky boy to have such a hardworking and kind mother like you to show him how life can be a better place.”
And that was it. Tears threaten to spill as I thanked him and told him to have a good day. I walked to my cleaning closet and lost it. I’m not sure why but I guess I just needed to hear I was doing a good job. Being a single mother isn’t easy and I do the best I can. So I will continue to come to work everyday with a smile on my face then celebrate when I get to see my children get off the school bus at 3:25pm and spend the rest of every night with them. Because family is what matters most.
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