Invisible

Somewhere I read that elderly women are invisible. The statement made sense to me because I know that given a choice to help a male or a female at the store, the male wins every time. Males come into the shop, explain the purpose of their visit, and leave smiling a few minutes later. The elderly female customer dillies over the colors and freshness of the flowers, goes back and forth about cost and preference of flower type. She uses her arthritic fingers to find the 72 cents change and takes forever to clasp her purse. She slings her purse over her arm, gathers her flower bouquet and limps out the door. Now, I know that I do not like to be invisible, and many years ago a colleague was dishing out compliments to the younger associates, noticed I was there, searched his thoughts and told me that I have a pretty smile. And even though my eyelids embarrass me because they hang low, it is quite true that when I smile, it is pretty. How I appreciate that he took the time and effort to include me in his compliment session. After reading the article, I decided to do something about the invisible elderly woman, to let her know that I see and appreciate her. I greet her as she enters the store and I listen and share my time. I hope in some small way that for a brief minute or two, the elderly woman feels noticed, her presence on this earth, acknowledged.