I whizzed around the city supermarket — whizzed may be a slight exaggeration as it was very busy — chucking stuff in the trolley. I had a rapidly approaching appointment and really should have left the supermarket task until after the appointment. There was the usual quick decision to make, which of the checkout lines looked to be the shortest and/or quickest. None of them were short so I stood at the one nearest to me, and I’m so glad I did.
The person at the front of the queue paid and left and the next person moved up. The elderly lady now at the front of the queue was having difficulty bending over to reach the items in her trolley. Rather than tutting loudly or rolling her eyes, the lady behind moved her trolley so she could help. There was possibly an ulterior motive in her assistance, but she helped pleasantly and with no sign of irritation. The checkout operator scanned the items and put them in another trolley, then a guy from the next queue over, who was with his wife or partner, helped pack them in the elderly lady’s bags. It was a lovely few minutes to share — people helping people.