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OUR LIFE M o n th ly , p u b lis h e d b y U k ra in ia n N a tio n a l W om en's L eag u e o f A m e ric a VOL. XLill DECEMBER 1986 Editor: Marta Baczynsky A SMALL ACT OF CHARITY Tanya pushed her way through the early morning crowd already assailing the depart ment store. Small wonder, she thought to herself. All these people are just as lazy as me, leaving everything for the last minute. Procrastinate, procrastinate, procrastinate, and the bottom line is that work, responsibilities and everything else just piles up until one wants to scream. Inside the store, Tanya had to stop, almost shocked momentarily by the splendor and magnificence of the Christmas decorations which graced the high ceilings, walls and coun ters of the main floor. If one wasn’t so hurried, so nervous, so uptight, one might just enjoy this tinsely show, she mused. Setting herself to the task at hand, Tanya dismissed the spirit of the season and proceeded to the men’s department, which was toward the rear of the store. She was of average height with short brown hair which lay in protective curls around her head. Her age would be difficult to pinpoint — she was not a young woman, nor was she at that stage of life where the tribulations of existence are reflected in the face; perhaps in her thirties or early forties. Judging by the spring in her step and the way she carried herself, her figure was in good shape. All in all an average woman, who in a throng of people could be distinguished only by her lively, expressive eyes. The men’s department was in shambles. Shirts, sweaters, ties, scarves were indiscrimi nately pulled at by the greedy hands of enthusiastic shoppers, eager for that special bargain. During normal times, store personnel would never have permitted such chaos, but three days before Christmas can hardly be considered “normal times”. Actually, by now everyone was completely exhausted with this shopping mania, and the store clerks stood dully on the sidelines. Tanya was at a loss. Should she get John a tie or a shirt. He really was not her favorite person under any circumstances, but being her sister’s husband, well, he was part of the family. Christmas giving was such a pain, especially when you had to buy things for people you really didn’t care for. But, tradition is tradition and swallowing her resentment, Tanya pushed her way toward a group of shelves holding striped shirts. “Size sixteen, another sixteen, don’t they have any fifteens,” she grumbled, pulling out one shirt after another. Out of the corner of her eye she registered a person at her elbow who stood absolutely still - an oddity in this madhouse. Tanya looked up and confronted an elderly man, who was looking at his bleeding finger. “Oh my, you cut yourself,” said Tanya. The man grimaced and made a motion as if to search for something to wipe the blood with. “Here,” quickly spoke Tanya, and reaching into her coat pocket, produced a yellow tissue. “Its clean, just crumpled,” she told the man. “Thanks, thanks a lot, ” replied the man, “It’s really nothing, it’s from these pins that stick out in the shirts. People handle them so much that everything falls apart.” “Are you badly hurt?” A woman stuck her head in between Tanya and the man. She was heavy set and had a greasy, pudgy face. Her eyes darted from Tanya to the man to the tissue wrapped finger. “This lady helped me..” the man started to explain. The fat woman fixed her eyes on Tanya. 28 ’’НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, ГРУДЕНЬ 1986 Видання C оюзу Українок A мерики - перевидано в електронному форматі в 2012 році . A рхів C У A - Ню Йорк , Н . Й . C Ш A.
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