Simple Faith: Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Shopping Carts

I enjoy shopping for groceries but, at Marilyn’s request, I’ve been relegated to chauffer because too many items find their way into my shopping cart that shouldn’t be there. While she shops, I enjoy a book or happily watch people—that is, until I witness activity so appalling, so disconcerting, that it challenges my faith in humanity. Right there in front of God and everybody, I have actually witnessed the abandonment of a shopping cart by someone who obviously believes they need not bother returning it to its corral.
I am assuming, of course, that you always return your cart to its brothers and sisters waiting in the cart corral. I realize some of us lack personal mobility which may justify an abandoned cart, but let’s be honest—those cases are few and far between.
As part of a working class family, I was taught early what it means to be part of a community. Before Mom left for work each day, she’d post a list of chores for each of us to complete while she was “slaving away in that hot factory…” (to be read with your eyelids fluttering and your forehand draped over your forehead).
I preferred cleaning the house rather than mowing grass, weeding the garden or feeding the livestock, so I’d put in for the domestic chores—dishes, laundry and general housework. My mother was a stickler for details, and I inherited this trait from her. This might explain why even today I can go Mr. Monk on you in a heartbeat if a wall hanging is slightly crooked or a throw rug is akimbo. Marilyn thinks I’m damaged; I just think I’m normal.
So I’m sure you can imagine what a gut punch it is for me to see shopping carts deserted on an ocean of asphalt. It’s more than a compulsion for neatness… it’s the humanity of it all!
I know you must be thinking, “Ron, I enjoy your writing because it is uplifting and positive. Why must you shine the light on something so horrendous, so dark, as this subject of abandoned shopping carts?” I know, I know, it is hard to speak of—but I feel a moral responsibility.
I’ve considered producing a TV commercial like the ones for abandoned puppies… you know, the heart-breaking shots of abused pets, their eyes pleading for adoption. In my commercial, the camera pans a windswept parking lot and finally focuses on an abandoned shopping cart dirty and braced against the elements, its wobbly wheels pointed in confused directions, its chrome grille chattering in the cold…unloved, and uncared for. “I left my Cart in San Francisco” plays softly in the background as Wilford Brimley does the voice over. “For just two dollars a week, you can adopt one of these carts.”
“Open your heart to an abandoned cart.”
Yeah…well, I know that’s not going to happen. But what if we each considered adopting a grocery cart on our way into the store? You never know, it may be the beginning of a lasting relationship. And in the meantime we will have done something to improve the quality of others’ lives—the store clerk making minimum wage pushing an impossibly long train of carts uphill to their rightful home, the driver who can park a little bit closer, the fender that doesn’t get dented.
Jesus, who I’m guessing would never use his grandpa’s handicap card or leave his grocery cart to fend for itself, says:
“Here is a simple, rule-of-thumb guide for behavior: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you, then grab the initiative and do it for them. Add up God’s Law and Prophets and this is what you get.” (Matthew 7:12 The Message)
I believe our quality of life is determined by the quality of our actions. I also believe what goes around comes around. You see, I’m convinced we all are part of a greater good to which we either contribute or diminish. And as simplistic as it may sound, a small act like returning our grocery cart truly speaks volumes about our personal character.