The old man had been working at the corner store his whole life. It was a family business, one that seemed to be ending with him. He was unmarried, and his son, Erich, had gone off to college several years ago before starting a life himself working as a lawyer. Alone though, just like his father. He only visited during the holidays, or when he had time. The corner store was where Erich grew up, and he always made time for his father, but life was getting busier. There was seemingly less time to slow down. Or to settle down.
Nevertheless, the old man worked at his store. It was his pride and joy. He was a community man; everyone knew him and loved him. He would give out sweet lollipops to the children who came inside with their parents (usually hidden in his pockets, so it could be a surprise). He lived to see the bright smiles and hear their excited laughs as they tugged on their parent’s arms to show them their latest prize. It wasn’t just that, though. Whenever a high school teen suffered a bad breakup, they came to him for adviceーhe always gave the best advice. He’d helped many girls and boys through their tears, soothing their aches and pains with laughter and a hot chocolate.
He was nearing his retirement now, having dedicated his life to his corner store, calling it “a job like no other.” He enjoyed talking with the store’s patrons and he loved hearing about their days, weeks, months, and years. Never in return did he offer his own happenings to whoever entered the store; it was never going to be as interesting as what they had to say.
Then, on one sunny day, one woman walked into the old man’s corner store, there to pick up some groceries. She’d known the old man for a long time, and she’d always intended to catch up with him, but there was never enough time. Even today, she had things to do and errands to run.
He made simple conversation with her, but her mind was preoccupied. He mentioned something about retirement, but she didn’t really hear. They chatted a while longer, but it ultimately fell quiet. She patiently waited as he rang up her items. Leaning on her hip, she scanned the wall behind him. There were little drawings he’d pinned up, all from young children giving him their thanks for the sweets (lots were several years old; some of those kids were teenagers now). There were pictures of him with high schoolers: ones where he congratulated them on a stunning performance in the school musical; others where he held the football in his hands as the young players crowded around him; there were even a few of him with his son. Ticket stubs and sweet letters in messy cursive were dotted here and there. Everything was plain and visible to see. (He’d sometimes, very enthusiastically, pull a picture down to show-and-tell a customer if they’d ask.)
That was when the woman noticed he’d kept her letter to him up on the wall, nearly front and center. When she was younger, a boyfriend cheated on her. Her parents were not big helpers in getting her to feel better, so she turned to the old man; he’d always been kind to her with sweets and advice. He’d sat with her for hours one Saturday, even closed the shop down to listen and talk. Every day after that, she’d come in to buy something, no matter how small, and he always asked her in his kind, old voice, “How’s your day been?” or “You doin’ alright today? Better?”
It took her only a short amount of time to realize she wantedーneededーto thank him, even if he insisted it was no inconvenience. She wrote him a letter regardless, finding the best paper and the best envelope. Even now, there is hung on his old corkboard of memories and mementos. And there was her old signature written in careful cursive at the bottom:
With all the thanks I can give,
Floresie
It stunned her just enough to remember what he’d said earlier. Retirement. She was about to ask, but he’d finished bagging her items, and she’d finished paying. He waved as she left with a smile and a bag of apples.
It was the next day, and Floresie marched back into the old man’s store with a mission. He greeted her with a smile as she plucked up a few apples and placed it on the table in front of him.
“Apples again?” he asked.
Floresie didn’t even realize. She only asked, “What is it you like to do? Or what would you like to do?”
Surprisingly he answered her question freely, with a warm smile. “I like running my corner store,” he joked. He understood her question, though. With a sigh and a smile, he said, “I’d like to do something I’ve never done before. Something exciting and new.”
That gave Floresie something to work with. She glanced back up at her letter on his wall and grinned.
In just a few weeks, the old man’s retirement was approaching, and Floresie knew something must be done. His endless dedication, love, and selflessness to the whole community needed to be commemorated and celebrated. Throughout the week, she met with the small town to discuss what should be done. How can we show this man our thanks for all he’s done for us?
Ideas rang around for a while before a plan came into motion. Calls were made, and diversions for the old man’s surprise were schemed. Then, on the day of his retirement, he opened his shop one last time, and the town was ready. Floresie entered the store first, the bell atop the door ringing and alerting the old man to her presence.
She gave a speech to him.
“We know today is your last day at the corner store before you retire. So, we wanted to do something special for you after all the special, meaningful things you’ve done for us over the years,” she spoke with a smile. “You said you’d love to try something new and exciting, so that is what we planned for you today.”
The old man was smiling, misty-eyed, but asked, “‘We’?”
The woman led him outside, where the town was waiting to greet him. Children gripped onto balloons, while their parents and the teenagers held up a banner that read:
With all thanks we can give: THANK YOU!
It brought the man to tears, but it wasn’t quite done yet.
From amidst the crowd, Floresie revealed Erich to his father. After making a few quick calls, Floresie had explained to him that his father was retiring, and the whole town wanted to do something special for him. He fought hard for a rearranged schedule at his firm and managed to book a flight. (The old man, also, was not stupid, and could clearly see that as a product of Erich and Floresie working together for a little over two and a half weeks, that perhaps he would begin working with that rearranged schedule permanently, if only to see her again.)
Lastly, Floresie revealed a ticket for a skydiving trip. It was something he’d never done, but something he’d always wanted to try. (A young girl remembered a conversation from a few months ago as the old man was comforting her after her father’s funeral. He’d told her not to dwell or let the loss drag her down, but instead to let it inspire her to achieve wonderful feats and exciting new beginnings. The kindness in his voice stuck with her, and she remembered what he’d said when she, in a tearful reply, asked what wonderful things he’d like to achieve. Skydiving.)
The generous gesture caused the old man to cry, but “happy tears!” he reassured them all. They surrounded him in a hug, thanking him and wishing him well.
The next day, the old man found himself jumping out of a flying plane. He could feel the wind as he watched the clouds and saw the world beneath him. He teared up, but the thrill evoked hearty laughter from deep inside his chest. From above, he saw the town from a different perspective, and his appreciation for it and its people grew. He hadn’t realized before now how the town saw him. Just like the earth before him, seeing his world as he knew it on a broader, vaster scale (there’s the town, smaller now; there’s the lake near the forest, bigger than he thought it to be), he saw his life and its meaning to others in a new light. He knew that they appreciated him for his corner store (who doesn’t need groceries?), but now he knew that his words meant something even greater.
Back on the ground, however, Floresie was stuck still with shock. She loved this old man just as much as the rest of the town did. So then why did she just send him plummeting out of a flying plane? While trying to fulfill a lifelong dream of his in order to show thanks and give back, she realized she may have overlooked how dangerous this was. Floresie looked up to the old man like a fatherーa good one. Something she never had been able to have for herself. She’d often been jealous of Erich for his father, always wondering how one person could get so lucky to have such a wonderful parent. But now that envy didn’t matter because now she was watching that old man she loved and appreciated so much fall from the sky. In retrospect, it seemed like a little bit of a bad idea.
But she saw Erich beside watching his father with a wide grin on his face. Wasn’t he scared his father was going to have a heart attack? He noticed her watching him and implored her to enjoy the moment a little more. After all the work she did to make it happen, she should be proud. There was a little moment of questioning for Floresie, but Erich reassured her by tugging her hand into his. He knew his father better than most, apparently.
Thankfully, the old man landed, his parachute falling like a deflated balloon behind him. He greeted them both with a bright smile and a big, hearty laugh. Floresie and Erich ran to meet him.