Sharing

     It sounds so simple and Mother Teresa-esque: sharing is caring, right? Well, I must say today sharing was taken to a level that I never expected or have encountered before. After a wonderful morning at church, I found myself in the lobby, dying for a steaming cup of whatever-brand-they-will-serve-me hazelnut coffee. I like coffee a lot, and though I enjoy a nice brew I am not too picky. And I adore hazelnut.
     Just as I was about to add a packet of Splenda to my slightly watery 8 ounces of goodness, the process was disturbed by the following words drifting from behind me: "Are you going to use the whole packet of that?" I turned to see a woman I only vaguely know (very sad come to think of it, since we go to the same church- but these thoughts probably belong in a more intelligent entry regarding my feelings on true community- stay posted).
     I looked at her and blinked a few times to see it she was addressing me. Sure enough, her questioning look was directed like a beam from a stun gun on my face, which I'm sure looked welcoming and endearing (just kidding, my makeup was at that point beginning to look like I was impersonating GaGa herself and I think I had awkward pit stains the size of dinner plates from some very cheery worship). The point being:
     SHE WANTED TO SHARE MY PACKET OF ARTIFICIAL SWEETENER.
     "Oh, yeah, I think so." That's the best I could come up with.
     The whole thing was a little strange and got me thinking of ways this principle of helping your fellow humans by splitting things could be used in the general public. Imagine: you're in a store and you gently glide up to someone you do not personally know. Genuinely concerned because of the effect's of the recession you say to this stranger, who is reaching for a pre-made dinner box, "So, you want to share that box of Rice-A-Roni?"
     Sharing is caring. Obviously.