佚名/Anonymous
I remember thinking about a middle-aged man standing at an adjacent checkout counter. Something set him apart. Even the boy bagging groceries seemed to sense it. He did a speedier-than-usual job as he glanced with respect at the man.
Trying to pinpoint what was different about him, I found that he looked quite ordinary. Although he gave the impression of being tall, I could see he was actually a little shorter than average. His features weren't particularly outstanding, and he was wearing plain weekend sports attire.
Not until the man was leaving did it strike me. He carried himself as if he were somebody worth caring about, head up and chest out, he walked proudly from the market.
Suddenly, words I'd heard my mother repeat hundreds of times as I was growing up held new meaning.“Stand up straight!Lift yourselfby pretending strings are pulling you from the tops of your ears.”
I thought of myself being pulled up, and my head and upper torso lifted automatically. I felt taller as I approached the market's doors. This time I saw refected a woman who looked as if she knew where she was going!But I rushed home in fve o'clock traffc and tried to fx dinner before a seven o'clock meeting, my good posture vanished.
It wasn't until the next day as I was trying on clothes in a department store that I remembered again. Each thing I put on bulged, rippled and tucked in the wrong places. I turned sideways, thinking that perhaps from a different angle I'd look better. That's when I realized how really poor my posture was. Suddenly I recalled the man in the supermarket. Standing straight helped him look wonderfully attractive and special. Could it help me look better in these clothes?
I lifted myself up and anxiously looked at the dress again. Unattractive bulges and tucks had smoothed themselves out, and the lines were nicer. I liked the dress!
“Dynamite!”said the clerk who was helping me.