The Gift of Gratitude
Earlier this month, hubby and I went off on a road trip, travelling the highways and bi-ways of my youth. First stop was my hometown of McAdam, New Brunswick, Canada, to participate in the Christmas tour of the grand old lady of architecture that is the McAdam train station. http://www.mcadamstation.ca/ The old beauty was falling into disrepair until citizens, governments and industry gathered around a vision to resurrect and restore her.
The night was magical for everyone. For me, it was particularly magical as I connected with old chums, including the Mayor who was dressed as a train conductor, and supported family friends, the Swan family, who were instrumental in making the event so spectacular. The Swans have been like family for almost as long as I can remember, but, since the death of my parents, I am especially blessed to have them in my life. I always feel at home with them.
I also got to sit in one of the leather chairs my family donated to the Board room in memory of our parents.
The morning after the station tour found our group crossing the border at Vanceboro, Maine, travelling Route 6 to Lincoln, then getting on the 95 to Bangor and Portland. Trekking into Mardens in Lincoln, I remembered my mother, she with The Black Belt in Shopping, who trained me in the fine art of finding the best deal. You would have been proud of your daughter, Mom.
When I was a child, there was virtually no shopping in my hometown. Crossing the border to shop in the U.S. was second nature to us and, I think, is somehow imbedded in my DNA. I like to joke that I was cross-border shopping when it was called smuggling. (To my Canada Revenue friends …. those days are over. For decades, I have been diligently disclosing my shopping tally at border crossings.) I know that there are many who criticize us for shopping in the U.S., but, for me, it evokes memories of home. The bulk of our shopping dollars still remain in Canada.
Macy’s in Portland was, of all places, the spot where I had a conversation that lingers with me still. As I stood at a cash register purchasing some dinnerware that is not available in Nova Scotia, the young lady waiting on me noted, “Oh. You’re from Canada. We love you Canadians.”As I smiled and said, “Thank you” at the unexpected comment, I could not have predicted what she said next. She said, “Because of you I have a job. I have two small children, and if it weren’t for all the Canadians who come here to shop, it would be tough.”
The young woman at Macy’s touched my heart, giving, as she did, a glimpse into not only the tough retail environment but, also, what may be tough times in her household. She reminded me that, in Canada, we’re not there yet. People may be struggling here, but few sales clerks show any signs that they are grateful to have me walk through their doors. For the most part, it’s just a job.
It is interesting that it has taken such a dramatic shift in the U.S. economy for them to value us and our shopping dollars. As I said, I grew up shopping in the States, and I recall a time when we were not afforded such gratitude. Sales staff did not seem to appreciate what they called our “funny money.”
So ... what is the point of this story?
Coach Yourself:
What will it take for you to appreciate what you have in your life?
To whom can you give the gift of gratitude this Christmas season?
How can you say “thank you” in a way that others know you truly mean it?
