Emily Hoffman

    Last week I was standing in line waiting for my turn to check out, and then waiting for the cashier to beep my purchases through.
     The checker looked tired as she greeted me. "Hi, how are you this evening?" she'd asked, pleasant but tired.
     Not that sleepy tired you get at midnight after working all day at a job, then all night at home. Not that physically exhausted tired. This middle-aged blond from McCook looked weary of life. Tired of clocking in and clocking out. Tired of battles. She looked as if she'd been handed a few too many curve balls.
     I watched her, wondering how old she really was, what she could tell me about her life, and what her story was-for everyone has a story.
     "If you could wish for anything," I asked while watching her work, "anything at all, what would you wish for?"
     She looked up. She stopped checking my purchases. Cocking her head to the left, it seemed she wondered if I'd really said what I'd said. She simply opened her mouth and then closed it again. Speechless, she started checking again.
     "No, really," I said. "You can have anything. Anything at all. What would you want? You can even have more than one thing."
     The corners of her eyes turned up, and a smile, quite lovely, broke across her weary face. She closed her eyes for a second. I could nearly hear the wheels of her mind whirling. "I'd want to win the lottery."
     Not too unique of an answer. Still, I believed there was more to her wish than just lottery money.
     "Why?" I asked.
     The cashier then looked to the far wall, staring at nothing from what I could tell. She took a deep breath and talked quickly.
     "I wouldn't want to win a lot of money, not really. I just would like to win enough to pay the bills," she said. "I work and work, and there's never enough, you know? I have five kids and I'm divorced." She paused for a breath and rang a few more items through. Her face changed from animated to troubled. Her voice lowered a bit as she continued.
     "You know, I just wish I could have a little extra once in a while, so I could buy my daughter a prom dress."
     That small wish, a prom dress for her daughter, hung with me all week. She had a simple desire to be able to purchase one item. That wish she expressed hadn't even been for herself. Paying the bills, getting the dress, having a bit extra, those wishes had been for her children.
     Mothers, couples, single moms and dads-we've all been there, just wishing, working to make things a bit better for our kids.
     We chatted for a few more minutes, during that time I admitted that even though I wished I was, although I believed in them, I was not her fairy godmother.
     She looked at me as I gathered up my bags and said she thought she'd buy a lottery ticket anyway, just in case.