He wasn’t happy with me. Tolerant, but not happy. It was at the new gas station in town. Not exactly new. It has been there for years, struggling on and off with actually being open and in operation. It had opened again just over a month ago by a short guy who was standing right in front of me at his cash register, holding my credit card.
“Don’t you have any cash?” he asked, disappointed as I stood there with my M&M’s resting on the counter top. He was Middle Eastern, probably about 45 years old. He knew I didn’t have cash. I’d made a bit of a show of digging through my pockets, looking inside my very empty wallet, only to come up with nothing. I was there for one thing, of course, and it had little to do with candy. But I at least wanted to give the guy some business. It seemed the right thing to do.
I shrugged. I didn’t have cash. But in one more act of good faith, I walked out to our van and dug through the change-holder. I found a few dimes, one nickle and plenty of pennies. But it wasn’t going to add up. When I went back in, I offered to put the M&M’s back. His problem was the interchange fee that he’s charged on every transaction with a credit card. I asked if he would make any money on the deal. He said he would, just a little. He wasn’t very convincing.
But he insisted then on running my card. I took the receipt and asked him if I could pray for him. It caught him off guard, and he clearly was confused, not quite understanding what I was asking. His English was OK, but not great. So I put my hands together and asked again. He kind of nodded that it would be OK, so I prayed immediately to Jesus that his business would be blessed.
We talked for a few more moments about how things were going. He was competing with the recently re-opened Kwik Shop down the street. Not a good situation for him. But he said this month was going better than last month. When I left, I still wondered whether I’d cost him money with my bag of candy. Next time, I promised him, I would bring cash.
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