In retrospect, life certainly seemed easier with just one kid.

Back when I wasn’t as worried about losing one of them to find they’d ripped open a package I’d had no intention of buying or were hiding behind a shelf of paper towels.

With just one I’d sometimes had quiet mornings I felt proud of with just me and him and a stack of board book and wipe-off letter pages. As his super pseudo-preschool teacher I would take him to bookstores and read methodically, and probably a little too loudly, and make him answer lofty questions like, “What does that animal say?”

I was having one of these days at my favorite book and coffee shop, on a “date” with my 3 year old son, when I first met a kind stranger. She seemed to be listening contently in on my lesson over muffins and paused to make one brief, lasting comment.

 

“You are doing a great job. I can tell you’re a good mom.”

 

Pregnant with my second son, and unsure if any of what I was doing in this first shot at parenting was right, her words made my day.

 

 

 

Our city is not that large and occasionally I would pass this woman while shopping, always smiling at her, while she returned no familiarity. Obviously her comment had meant more to me than her that day, until about 7 years later in the grocery produce aisle.

While the boys and I were contemplating the popularity and price comparison of spinach vs. 50% spinach vs. spring mix, I noticed her on the phone and visibly upset.

Have you ever had someone hang up and then turn to continue their phone conversation with you?

“Of course my car won’t start and he can’t come right away!”

She stared and muttered directly to me.

Aww, this was my encourager. I smiled sympathetically and surprised myself by asking her, really a stranger, if she needed a ride. She said, No, but thanks.

 

I started to leave but paused instead to thank her for our bookstore conversation.

 

“I remember you because years ago you stopped to notice what I was doing and told me I was being a good mom. I never forgot that and wanted to thank you.”

 

Her frustrated face softened. She looked at my boys’ patient faces and I knew she had overheard my produce economics lesson. “Well, it looks like I was right.” (She had missed them ramming each other with the mini-cart and my frustration on the dairy aisle but I would take her encouragement again.)

I reflected that day on the potential of what we say to encourage others in motherhood could matter. Could I take the time to do that for another mom with her “arms full”? It had kind of made my day multiple times just passing her and remembering how uplifted she made me feel that day. Could I be that lady in my community to others?

 

Maybe not ironically, the grocery store has also been a place where I have seen pain and stopped to pray with strangers – holding hands, right there in the pasta aisle! Don’t underestimate this common gathering place for women as a place for Kingdom moments.

 

Do you have a story like this- encouraged by a stranger?

Or do you have a habit of doing this for others? (it’s okay to brag about yourself here!)