Lesson 5, Part 1

Wally did not start the day intending to snoop in someone’s package. When it dropped out of his hands as he was loading up his truck for the first route, the tape had completely split open. He could not help but see what was inside. The name on the address was Mrs. Lana Chandler in Benwood Estates. He delivered packages to her often and had a clear picture of her in his mind, medium height, blonde, fortyish, a little on the heavy side. When she answered the doorbell, her little Chihuahua always snarled and barked at him, but he did not mind. Little dogs were like that.

Wally pulled back the loose flap and peered inside the box. An envelope addressed to Lana lay on top of a lovely blue cashmere sweater. Looking around to see if anyone else was watching, he picked the envelope up, turned it over and noticing that it was not sealed, pulled out the sheet of paper inside. From the contents, Wally discerned that Lana had recently had a mastectomy, and the sweater was a get well present from a friend.

Carefully, Wally put everything back and resealed the box to look as though it was never opened. Wally could empathize with people who had been sick. Wounded in the Gulf War, surgeons operated on his leg three times. He spent weeks in physical therapy, lonely, painful weeks. His detachment was in Dhahran when an Iraqi scud missile hit, killing twenty-eight of his buddies. Wally still jumped at loud noises. He prayed he never had to see another dead body.

Wally pulled down the truck door and got up into the driver’s seat to start his route. When he came to Lana’s house, he was careful with her package and only rang the doorbell once, giving her extra time to answer. Her little dog greeted him as usual, but Lana did not look well at all. She was thin now and very pale and fragile-looking.

“A package for you Mrs. Chandler. How are you doing? Would you like me to set this inside for you?” Wally flashed a friendly grin and leaned in to set the package on a table beside the door as Lana opened it wider. Seeing an opportunity, the little Chihuahua raced to escape to the outside, but Wally quickly scooped him up.

“Thank you. That’s very nice of you, Wally, is it?” Lana peered at his nametag.

“No problem, Mrs. Chandler. Glad to be of assistance.” Tenderly, Wally set the little dog inside as Lana shut the door.

Wally was concerned for Mrs. Chandler and whenever he spied a package addressed to her, his natural curiosity got the best of him. He hoped she was getting better and by looking inside her packages, he told himself he could determine her progress. At first, most packages contained only her medicines. Then, he started seeing books and movies from Amazon. Today’s package brought a “wow” and a big smile, when he saw the bright pink jogging outfit. Now he knew she not only looked better, she was better.

Wally took a special interest in several of his customers. If he found any cause for concern, he made it his business to check out their packages for clues. He knew it was not right to open them, but he told himself it was because he cared. He was especially nice to the ones who had problems like old Mr. Reynolds, who was diabetic and lived alone. His insulin came in insulated Styrofoam boxes so Wally only had to open one box to know what that was. Each time he saw Mr. Reynolds, he was sure to ask how he was getting along and told him how good he looked. Wally knew how lonely it got with no one to talk to. Both of Wally's parents were killed in an automobile accident just before he joined the service, and now he lived in a small apartment by himself.

After several months passed of Wally's clandesine activities, one morning his boss called him into his office. Wally’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, thinking someone had discovered his package tampering, and he was about to get fired or worse.

“Sit down, Wally. I have been hearing some interesting reports about you.”

Wally’s face drained of all color as he imagined the jail door clanging shut with him inside. His throat closed up and he thought he had lost his ability to speak.

“Several of your customers have called or written letters to tell me how helpful and pleasant you have been on the job. It’s certainly nice to get commendations instead of complaints. You know we’ve had a supervisor’s job vacant for some time now, and I think you are the perfect guy for the position. I want you to train the rest of the crew to be the kind of friendly and helpful person you are.”

Shocked, Wally tried to blurt out the truth. “But, Mr. Weston…”

“Now, Wally, I know it will be more responsibility, but it will mean a big raise, too. If you need some time to think about it, I can understand that. Is that what it is, Wally?”

Wally blinked a few times as his color returned, and said, “Yes, Mr. Weston, that’s what it is. I need time to think.”

Mr. Weston stood up and shook Wally’s hand, indicating the meeting was over. “Don’t take too long, Wally.”

“I won’t, Sir.”

As Wally walked back to his truck, he thought of his special customers and wondered what they would do without him. Then, more seriously, he thought…what will I do without them—and their packages?