The other day while I was working, this incredibly nice, bubbly elderly lady needed my help at the self check-out (I work at a grocery store). I helped her put through her items, and the whole time she was just talking to me, happy about life and thankful that I was there to make her check-out experience much easier (and certainly faster). When her transaction had been put through, she proceeded to thank me profusely and tell me how beautiful my name, dark brown eyes, and red-tinted hair were until she left with a “God bless.” I spent a few minutes after she walked away wondering why she seemed vaguely familiar to me, and now I remain thoroughly convinced that I met a little piece of Nana, my late Sicilian great-grandmother, again yesterday.
She’d started by admiring my name. Asking if I’d ever been told before how beautiful my name is. I told her I had, but I thanked her nonetheless. And as she was looking me in the eyes, talking to me, I saw this look of wonder and admiration cross her face. It was then that she told me how beautiful my dark brown eyes are. And although she continued on to admire my hair as well, what really struck me was the way she looked at me, really looked. It was as if looking in my eyes she was seeing more than just the surface. Somehow this compliment from an elderly stranger, “You have the most beautiful dark brown eyes,” became the best compliment in the whole world.
It was the sincerity with which it was said. She was completely unashamed, simply admiring something that she stumbled across in her everyday life and marking it for what it was: beautiful. After she walked away, I had this light, fuzzy feeling of happiness that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. And it was then that I realized that God will tell you what you need to hear if you’re ready to listen. I was finally ready to listen and take it to heart.
Thank you to the woman who told me I have beautiful eyes.