the other day at a major grocery store, i maxed out my debit card trying to buy flour. i was all tears and grief mixed with wild abandon bawling. i am not a pretty crier, it was very embarrassing for probably everyone, if not just for myself. with hardly a word, you paid for my flour as i cried in my girlfriend's arms. she was leaving the next day and i was, and still am so fearful that i won't get to see her again for a long time. i had just blown the tube on my bike, my sole means of transportation which i could not afford to fix. going into that express lane, that bag of flour was a personal metaphor, if i could pay for this, then everything would be alright. i could manage. i could get through. i could handle it all instead of letting my stress and my grief claw at me further. i just had to get through this moment. a lot was riding on it, and when 'transaction declined' came up, it all crashed over me. until you. you were persistent in your need to help me out. then, you followed me out of the store to offer me more money. i was too tired and sad to refuse, having burned out all of my pride last week. i was and am still truly humbled. i hope to meet you again under better circumstances. i am so glad for you, and i will always be grateful for your kindness that night, it gave me strength and a way out of the dark thoughts. i will make it up to you, if not personally, i will by hopefully getting my life together and being able to help someone else in a similar situation someday. you are my new metaphor for getting by, a thousand thank yous. —floored flour girl