Handling disappointment

It’s been said, “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” I beg to differ. Let me tell y’all a little sad story…

So I was all signed up for this long-awaited painting class, and since I have an entire wardrobe of church t-shirts, I thought it would be ok to sacrifice one. I’m just making wise use of my resources (sorry Pastor Larry). Now you need to understand, I started dabbling with paint on canvas 20 years ago, and every now and then I remember. I stroll galleries and think, I could paint that. Why am I not painting? I could splatter some paint and sell it for big money!

The chance to go to a real-live art class is beyond thrilling. I registered over a month ago. All $70 worth of supplies have been selected and paid for, oh and $25 for the class. The bigger sacrifice is this happens to fall in the sacred Sunday-afternoon-nap slot. That’s enough right there to prove just how excited I am about doing this.

I arrive a few minutes early. There is no one there. No instructor. No other eager students carrying in their supplies. I wait a few minutes, and then I sort-of-politely ask what’s happening. I am eventually directed to the store manager. There is no class today.

(Pause here for dramatic effect.) 

My heart sank. I wanted to cry. (This happens on other occasions when the nap is not to be had.) The manager owned it. It was her fault. The instructor no longer taught there, and somehow they overlooked this class when notifying all the students that it was not going to happen. 

She apologized twenty-seven times. She gave me a full refund without the receipt. She gave me a coupon for future purchases. She took my name, number and email. She touched my hand and looked me in the eye and apologized again. I think she wanted to cry a little bit for me.

I could not be angry with this lady. I was just disappointed. And then I was so grateful that I wasn’t the totally mean bitchy person who really wanted to flop down on the ground and have a full blown tantrum. After all, I was wearing my church t-shirt. 

There is something about wearing this that makes me a better person. Or maybe just keeps me from being a total jerk in public. I probably won’t put a church sticker on my car yet. I am not a rude driver. I just like to get where I am going. Quickly. Ok, to finish our story…

I’m still bummed that there is a bare spot on my gallery wall, waiting for a new piece of glorious art. But that spot has been there a while, and it will fill with something lovely when an instructor is ready to appear.

And really, it was okay. I salvaged the day by heading to Lido Beach for several hours. All by myself. I took a much needed nap while in the beloved beach chair, toes in sand. It was not what I had planned, but it was perfect. I’m learning to just go with it…

There are much bigger things in life to have tantrums about. Maybe that lady will take note of the fact that I didn’t throw a fit, and that I was gracious when I had every reason to be downright upset. And that maybe wearing an attitude that matched my shirt got noticed. For the right reasons. 

Thanks for reading…til next time,
Sherri

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