During the National Day holidays, Mother and I went over to shop at the community supermarket. Because of the holiday hordes, I wished we could be in and out of the place fast.

Luckily, I found at the checkout a one-person queue and joined the lane. Taking it for granted that it would not be long before my turn came, I began shuffling the stuff in the cart. After placing my shopping on the counter, I looked up, only to find that the one person ahead of me was a groggy elderly lady. She was paying with a lot of change. What was worse, she asked the cashier to register her things as different purchases, for she was shopping for her friends. Considering the time that it would take her to get everything processed, I got a bit cross.

The young cashier, however, treated the elderly lady with respect. He sorted out all the coins and notes on the counter after he took them from her shaky hands. When she said she wanted a recyclable shopping bag, he went over to a neighbouring cashier for one, in which he repackaged her items. Never did the young man exhibit a vestige of boredom or annoyance in the process. He was patience incarnate.

After the elderly lady was done and gone at last, I felt as if I were at the end of my tether. The young cashier, smiling and courteous, turned to me and started to scan my purchases. He thanked me for waiting.

Having got out of the supermarket and left the hordes of shoppers behind, I did not feel my time there wasted. Instead, I ended up with a heart brimful of gratitude to the cashier for his invaluable lesson on patience.