The Scenic Route

“There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.” ~ Beverly Sills, American operatic soprano (1929-2007)

We had only been married a few weeks when Teresa asked me to take her shopping for a new pair of sandals. In the late seventies, in the tiny river towns of southwestern Pennsylvania, the place to go shopping was Charleroi, PA, a small town along the Monongahela River 25 miles south of Pittsburgh. I assumed it would be a quick errand since there was a Montgomery Ward located there. We could just “zip in and zip out.”

We parked on Lincoln Avenue and got out of the car. I turned toward the “box store” on the corner; its big sign beckoned. “Just a second,” Teresa said from behind me. Turning I found my young bride surveying the surrounding shops; swiveling her head like a quarterback looking for open receivers. “There!” she exclaimed pointing at a little boutique store across the street. Off we went with me still glancing over my shoulder at Montgomery Ward.

A bell rang, announcing our arrival, as we entered the shop. The shop keeper, an older woman with a gray bouffant hairdo, smiled and nodded her welcome. Teresa headed for the racks along the wall. After she perused what seemed like every shoe in the place, she selected a pair of Bass Sandals. Surprisingly, to me anyway, she requested two sizes. The shopkeeper dutifully brought two boxes from the back room. One pair fit beautifully. Though we were newlyweds I instinctively reached for my wallet.

“Thank you,” Teresa said politely, handing the boxes back to the woman. “Don’t you like them?” I asked. “Oh, they’re perfect,” she responded. “So, let’s get them,” I insisted. “Not just yet,” she said with a grin. “We’re not done yet,” and out the door she went with me trailing behind.

I was confused at this point. Being male, my instincts were different than hers. Shoe shopping should be like going to the hardware store: find what you need, buy it and go home. As the afternoon wore on I quickly learned there was another very different approach.

We visited no less than ten more shops and stores, including Montgomery Ward which we visited last. The drill was pretty much the same at each. Teresa would carefully examine the entire selection of sandals available to her. Then she would pick one or two selections, request multiple sizes and try all of them on, ultimately returning them politely to the sales person.

After perusing the contents of eleven stores I was both tired and mystified. There couldn’t be any more purveyors of shoes in Charleroi…could there?

“Now what?” I asked hesitantly. “One last stop,” Teresa replied and headed off again; me tagging along behind with my hands stuffed in my jeans pockets. To my complete surprise we arrived back in front of the shop at which we had started.

The bell again signaled our arrival. The shop keeper, the older woman with the gray bouffant hairdo, was still behind the counter smiling. “Do you have those Bass Sandals I tried on a while ago,” Teresa asked politely. “Sure do,” the woman replied. “They’re right here.” “Haven’t put them away yet,” she said handing the box to Teresa. Teresa tried them on a second time checking their “look” in the tilted floor mirror. “I’ll take these,” she said finally.

Relieved, but still confused, I again reached for my wallet; this time handing over the requisite amount of cash. The shopkeeper bagged the shoe box and receipt and handed them to Teresa. After the appropriate social niceties we left…the bell signaling our departure.

“So are you happy with those?” I asked as we headed toward BJ’s Diner. “They’re perfect!” Teresa responded. “Well, if they were the right ones, why didn’t you buy them in the first place,” I asked.

Teresa looked at me with a smile of wisdom and love I have come to know well over the years. “Because,” she began patiently; “Now I know they are the right ones.”

On that day as a new husband I quickly learned why they are called “shopping trips.” What I considered running an errand, was an event for Teresa …an excursion…an experience. Life, after all, is meant to be experienced, not simply circumnavigated as quickly as possible.

Our shopping excursion helped me get to know Teresa a little better: what she liked and what she didn’t. The trip also gave me a glimpse into a world I would probably have not experienced otherwise. It also created a few small mysteries to ponder along the way. For instance, did the shopkeeper sense Teresa would be back and kept the shoes out or had she simply neglected to put them away?

Sadly, we live in a world where shortcuts are expected and sought out. They are also dangerous. Every shortcut taken excludes something or someone. We may think we are being more efficient, but there is also a price to be paid, a cost to be extracted. That loss is often loss in relationships, experience or knowledge. If you don’t believe me try speed dating sometime.

Shortcuts limit our satisfaction. Teresa found satisfaction in shopping. I found satisfaction in getting to know her. We are called to be stewards of our life’s journey. Spiritually, we are called to take the road less traveled, the scenic route. No truly lush oasis can be reached without crossing a desert first.

Dear God: Show me the scenic route.

“A firm foundation is built on growth; not rushing….We can never break nature’s laws. Too often we break ourselves trying.” ~Acquire Wisdom & Live with Passion (blog)

© 2011 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

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