Sadiq’s Greeting
We tend to
enter our favorite local supermarket through the parking lot that is below the
store. From this lot, we pick up a wagon
and then enter a vestibule leading to a long people-mover ramp that delivers us
to the main floor. In that lower
vestibule, we often see Sadiq, a Pakistani man who works security at this lower
entrance to the store.
I cannot
remember when I first met and exchanged greetings with him, nor can I remember
when he first greeted my kids and learned their names. However, each time that he is working there
he greets me. If I only have my
daughter, he greets her by name and asks “Where is your brother?” Dara smiles and tells him that Micah is at
home. When Micah is there, he greets
him, “Hello Michael. Is Michael a big boy?”
(Sadiq is not the only one who hears ‘Micah’ and says ‘Michael’. It is somewhat of a unusual name for many who
speak excellent English.) The kids now
know him by name.
We greet
any of the usual security guards in this vestibule, but Sadiq is the only one
who consistently steps forward with a smile.
If, God forbid, something unsavory were to occur in the lot, I would
want Sadiq to be the one on security at that moment. While I never have felt unsafe in the lot,
the presence of a kind face and presence there lends a sense of peace and
emotional security. It helps me to slow
down and ease the way into the mundane, and often stressful, supermarket
experience.
The Rabbis
teach us in the Mishnah to greet everyone with ‘a cheerful, pleasant face’ (sever panim yafot’). This instruction is not as easy to do as it
sounds at first. A recent experience
illustrates a painful lack of any
facial recognition. We were pushing our
kids in the wide, but smooth gliding, ‘jogging stroller’ on the sidewalk in our
town. Two male tweens were approaching
us on the sidewalk with their phones in front of their faces in ‘texting
position’. They kept their eyes on the
screen and did not, or pretended not, to notice us. Startled, we pulled aside and they walked
past without turning away from the screen.
A positive
greeting is a validation, an offer of respect, an opening to dialogue, and
something that clears the air and reduces the tension between people. Sadiq inspires me to be a better greeter,
someone who consistently tries to connect with others even when others may
ignore or avoid a response.
Sadiq translates
to the Hebrew ‘tzedakah’, justice, righteousness. His greetings, our greetings and response and recognition of others, is an act of
righteousness that makes us feel more human and contributes to the creation of
a world where we can feel motivated to bring people closer together, whether at
the supermarket, or in the complex and dangerous politics of international
relations.
I’m willing
to start small. Let’s give it a try.
