A sweet little cashier, W, who is in her late 70's (I think 77), became very ill last Wednesday. I saw her carefully trying to get to the restroom, and she was whiter than Irish linen. I got to her and offered my help, but she refused, but I made sure she got to the restroom and into a stall safely.
She threw up and I knew she was horribly sick, so I notified our front-end manager and a couple other CSMs who all came running. She was so sick she was taken to the emergency room because she's a diabetic.
She came back today. I found her in the break room, and immediately hugged her and told her how glad I was that she was better and back with us, when all of a sudden she burst into tears on my shoulder.
She said, "I need to apologize to you. I'm so sorry I was so rude to you when I got sick."
I felt awful. I hugged her tighter and said, "Oh, no, no, you were awfully sick, honey. You weren't rude at all."
She insisted that she'd been rude and still was crying, so as she was sitting and I was standing, I knelt down in front of her and hugged her again and kissed her forehead. I said, "Honey, look at me. What matters is that you're back here with us, you're feeling better, and all that matters is that we're both here right now, right?"
That seemed to work. She sniffled and tried a smile and said, "Yes, you're right."
I winked at her, kissed her on the cheek, and told her I love her. I really do.
That got a big smile.
God is so good. But I'm stuck with a nagging feeling she may have felt badly about that for days. I hope not. When people are ill like that, they certainly aren't at their best, as we all know. But rude? Never.
I came home and made her a bookmark with a cross on it and flowers and butterflies out of construction paper run through the printer, and I signed it, "Love, Joyce." I laminated it, put a purple ribbon through the top of it (purple is her favorite color) and I'll give it to her tomorrow.
As I indicated, she has diabetes and some health problems and I want her to have something personal from me because I know one day she won't be able to work any more. On the back of it is my phone number.
God bless her.
Blessings and purrs,
Saavy
She threw up and I knew she was horribly sick, so I notified our front-end manager and a couple other CSMs who all came running. She was so sick she was taken to the emergency room because she's a diabetic.
She came back today. I found her in the break room, and immediately hugged her and told her how glad I was that she was better and back with us, when all of a sudden she burst into tears on my shoulder.
She said, "I need to apologize to you. I'm so sorry I was so rude to you when I got sick."
I felt awful. I hugged her tighter and said, "Oh, no, no, you were awfully sick, honey. You weren't rude at all."
She insisted that she'd been rude and still was crying, so as she was sitting and I was standing, I knelt down in front of her and hugged her again and kissed her forehead. I said, "Honey, look at me. What matters is that you're back here with us, you're feeling better, and all that matters is that we're both here right now, right?"
That seemed to work. She sniffled and tried a smile and said, "Yes, you're right."
I winked at her, kissed her on the cheek, and told her I love her. I really do.
That got a big smile.
God is so good. But I'm stuck with a nagging feeling she may have felt badly about that for days. I hope not. When people are ill like that, they certainly aren't at their best, as we all know. But rude? Never.
I came home and made her a bookmark with a cross on it and flowers and butterflies out of construction paper run through the printer, and I signed it, "Love, Joyce." I laminated it, put a purple ribbon through the top of it (purple is her favorite color) and I'll give it to her tomorrow.
As I indicated, she has diabetes and some health problems and I want her to have something personal from me because I know one day she won't be able to work any more. On the back of it is my phone number.
God bless her.
Blessings and purrs,
Saavy
