I always liked walking into an elementary school building an hour or so before classes began, when quiet covered every classroom and office, inviting unhurried reflection as well as preparation for the day. Occasionally I saw a janitor pushing a wide mop down the old wooden hallways and making them shine. Now that I work at a large department store, I find similar calm when I arrive before its doors open for business. I also see the people who work behind the scenes to make most American department stores shine.
On Mothers Day, I walked in the employee entrance and made my way downstairs to clock in at the register. I passed a number of workers, women mostly, wearing full aprons, pushing mops and buckets down wide aisles that reflected the dim lights of the early morning store.
Good morning. This place always shines in the morning. Thank you, I said to each as I passed by in a simple attempt to reverence their work, their personhood.
They nodded acknowledgment. Some smiled. Some responded with a tired Good morning. Some dont speak much English. I opened one of the registers at my station for the first time, counting and recounting coins and bills to make sure I entered the correct numbers. Two more registers to go before the store doors opened to customers.
Good morning! came over the speakers. The morning meeting will be at the fine jewelry counter today I stood at the meeting, thinking of the remaining registers I had to open and wondering if I could do it before opening. Maybe I didnt have to. I wasnt sure. A smiling associate interrupted my thoughts as she handed me a corsages; there was one for each mother working that day.
Happy Mothers Day, she said. The carnation and greenery looked cheery perched above my nametag. I left the meeting a bit early to finish opening. My thoughts were with the women who had been cleaning the store. I wondered how early they arrived to do their jobs. I wondered how many were mothers. I wished I had carnations for them.
© 2010 Mary van Balen
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