The other day I ran into the neighborhood convenience store for some milk and a Push Pop for Sean. Stevie Wonder's Isn't She Lovely was playing on the store's music system. While standing in line, I heard a clear happy voice singing along and looked up. It was one of the clerks, a young girl with glasses and a messy bun, working away. There was a fuzzy humming sound too. It was the man in front of us, enjoying the song. A gruff, long-haired old guy with a big tummy, who can often be seen walking around town with a grocery bag or scruffy briefcase. The other clerk was joining in now and there were other customers bopping around to the beat. As I payed my bill, I glanced up and saw a deli girl in rubber gloves singing out over the counter.
Our neighborhood convenience store is a happy place. Our old preacher used to talk about how on his morning walks he'd stop in for a coffee and always get a joyous start to his day with the camaraderie of the place. Adding a little Stevie Wonder to the mix didn't hurt.
Isn't it lovely?