When I Wasn’t Noticing: Lessons from 7-Eleven

This has nothing to do with tiny homes, but it’s such a beautifully written article by one of my all-time favourite writers, I just had to re-post it.

Crohn's & the Real Girl

I had a realization the other day. And, like many realizations, mine started in an unexpected place. Specifically, 7-Eleven.

I was waiting in line, absentmindedly staring at the tabloids, when the man in front of me pulled a handful of change out of his pocket and dumped it out on the counter.

“Hey,” The man pushed grimy silver coins toward the cashier. Beneath the glass counter-top, a rainbow collection of scratch-and-win tickets were piled along neat lines.

The man stopped counting. His fingers hovering over the coins. “I think I’m a little short…”

He was trying to buy a coffee. Steam curled out of the black lid as it sat on the counter, waiting.

The cashier swallowed, blinked, frowned.

“Yeah,” The man nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m fifteen cents short, man. Sorry…is that okay?”

“Fifteen cents,” The cashier drawled. He held his hand above the glass counter-top…

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