A moment of unexpected wisdom in a grocery store

“It’s Too Little, Too Late,” He Told Me — And Somehow, He Still Smiled

This essay on meaningful encounters explores how a brief interaction with a stranger can reshape the way we see the world. Sometimes the most ordinary moments carry the most extraordinary lessons — if we are willing to pause long enough to notice them.

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The Power of an Unexpected Encounter

Recently, I was shopping in a grocery store with a one-track mind: see how many items I could purchase for $22(that’s what I had left in my wallet). I scanned the mayonnaise with half-tired, half-cloudy vision when someone said, “Hello, ma’am. How are you?”

I looked over my shoulder and, not too far from me, across the aisle where the canned beans were, a dark-skinned older man (perhaps 55 or 60 years old), wearing a dingy, dark blue work jumper (was he an outdoors worker?), smiled and nodded.

“Hi! “How are you?” I gave a quick nod of my head.

“I’m doing good,” he turned away and pulled a canned something from the top shelf. “You seem like you are doing well and in good health.”

My vision, which could be affected by my high glucose fluctuations lately, was not too bad as I viewed the man who looked almost like my dead father: same mannerisms, same voice, same…kind of talk.

“Well, I’m going through much in different areas of my life, sir, but I manage it with a smile.”

“Yep,” he nodded with his own smile. He had a cheerful smile that somehow brightened the aisle. “The old folks used to say, ‘Things be murky inside but look good on the outside. Someone could be going through a lot but you’ll never see it.’”

I paused, picking up the mayo.

I love conversations like this.

When the Perspective Shifts

He went on to tell me that he was 71 years old (I couldn’t believe it!), but that he just survived two strokes in one week and did not even know he had the first one until after he had the second one.

“I changed my diet,” he said, “but my doctor said ‘It’s too little, too late’”

Too little.

Too late.

We talked for a few more moments before people started piling up in the aisles, and eventually, we said our goodbyes and took care.

I thought about his wise sayings all day.

His smile, and the fact that he was 71 years old and able to see life, not as something good or bad, but as a bitter pill we all have to swallow someday. Even though lately…

Life has been sour.

The sickness we thought had gone away, has come back.

The old man in the store said he had hypertension, which, if you don’t know, is a silent killer that causes heart attacks, strokes, and eventually death.

There’s another silent, deadly killer that has re-entered the United States.

Let me explain.

Meaningful Encounters Even with Life Gets Sick

In Isabel Wilkerson’s book Caste, she begins with the “hunted summer of 2016” when a sudden heatwave struck the Siberian tundra, making it an inconceivable 95 degrees on the Russian peninsula. Children of the indigenous herdsmen fell sick from a mysterious, deadly illness.

People actually died.

Scientists finally uncovered the problem.

The heat wave chiseled the permafrost and exposed a deadly toxin that’s been buried since 1941.

It was the pathogen, anthrax, which had killed a herd of reindeer all those decades ago.

Well, it was back.

Meanwhile, in America, the same thing was happening but more…metaphorically.

Wilkerson explains,

Another sickness that was not fully destroyed had broken free.

This sickness is called caste, or racism.

Currently, there are protests, marches, commentators, and social media influencers calling for peace and investigations.

But it is too little too late.

In my opinion, all the isms of this world should have been incinerated, not just buried and forgotten underneath the guise of Christian love, banishing miscegenation laws, and the fact that we can share the same water fountain.

Those are good things, of course.

It just does not eradicate what is happening.

It is too little, too late.

Once that snowball got rolling centuries ago, it was hard to blast the mentality of caste.

These are all just my opinions, of course.

We can take this deeper into my own health.

When you are first diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, that means your cells has taken years to develop a resistance to your own insulin. It does not happen overnight.

I can exercise and eat right now, and all that will do is minimize future complications.

It does not mean I will never have complications.

Because it’s too little too late.

All I can do is hope and pray my hard work is enough.

But then…I think of the kind, old man in the store.

Who changed his lifestyle and still suffered two strokes.

He remains in the land of the living. He still smiles.

A Lesson Hidden In the Spark

Sometimes, my stories come off as dire and not full of so much hope. I dream of possible solutions to society’s ills all the time: long-term unemployment, chronic conditions, racism, ageism, sexism, abuse — I think of how these can all be addressed, and we read these articles hoping that the writers have come up with a solid plan.

I have no solid plan.

It is, quite honestly, too little too late.

We’ve allowed the abuse of the planet and the human who is part of that nature…for far too long.

In a perfect world, I would say, “You know. It may be too late, but we are still here. We can start with the person in the mirror. What can you do to help yourself? After that, what can you do for someone close to you? After that, what can we do for the community? After that…the world may exhale and finally say, ‘Thank you.’

Maybe that’s the small wildfire we need.

It’s too little, too late, but we can smile and say we are still here and there is much work to do.

Thank you for reading!

*This essay also appears on Medium.

If you like this piece, you'll love 8 Things People In Survival Mode Say-That The Rich Don't​

P.S. I also began writing some haiku over on Substack, so if you want to slow down from the world and want to experience something a bit more gentle and LoFi, head over to inkandhaiku.

See you there!

Thank you for reading!

Erica writes about the myths we are sold about work, success, and survival- and what's really behind them. She believes writing and literature are medicine and the cure. Sign up for more pieces like this, delivered fresh to your inbox.