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    One evening last week, I was almost home (I have that long, five minute commute) when I remembered that I needed to stop by the grocery store. I don’t like going to the grocery store. I put it off as long as I can. I can never remember what is on which aisle and they’re always moving stuff around — I wish they’d stop that!

    There is, however, one part of the grocery store experience I enjoy. It’s the people. It’s fun to watch them shop. I suspect they enjoy watching me shop too, peering, as I do at the labels through my reading glasses, trying to make sure I get the shampoo and not the conditioner.

    The shoppers seem to fit into several categories. There’s the recreational shopper — the folks that view a trip to the store in the same way I view a trip to the golf course. They aren’t in a hurry. They don’t have a list. They come to the store everyday — maybe more than once — and they just sort of meander down the aisles. They stop and visit with the other recreational shoppers (they all know each other) and sometimes they make it difficult for others who are trying to squeeze past them.

    Then there are the Just-dropped-by-to-pick-up-a-few-things-for-dinner-and-I’m-in-a-real-big- hurry-so-stay-out-of-my-way-or-I’ll-kill-you-with-my-cart shoppers. Grim faced, these people are on a mission and the rest of us had better watch our step. They should be given specially equipped red carts with flashing lights and foam-rubber bumpers. I don’t ever speak to these kind of shoppers. I don’t want to distract them — and they could be armed.

    My favorite kind of shopper is the family shopper. This is a mom or a dad with one or two children in tow and a shopping cart filled to the brim. These shoppers come once a week, spend about $1000 and always need help to the car.

“Mommy, have we got a Bible at home?”

    Last week, after collecting the things I needed, I got in line behind one of these family shoppers — a mom with a shopping cart that, very possibly, would go over the $1000 mark. She had a precocious little girl with her, five or six years old, and the questions were flying in rapid-fire sequence. The subject was Christmas and I settled back to watch, listen and learn.

    “Is Christmas really Jesus’ birthday?”

    “Well, honey, a lot of people think so.”

    “But is it?”

    “I’m not sure, sweetie — I guess it could be.”

    “Were there really five wise men and a star?”

    “I think it was three wise men, baby doll, and, yes, I think there was a star.”

    “And angels, were there really angels?”

    “A lot of people think so, sweetie.”

    “Mommy, have we got a Bible at home?”

    “Yes, honey, but I’m not sure where it is.”

    “Can we find it and read about Christmas?”

    “We’ll see, I have to fix dinner, but we’ll see.”

    “Does Jesus know Santa?”

    I was interested in the answer to that one but they were moving toward the parking lot, so I didn’t get to hear mom’s wisdom on this difficult subject.

    As I made my way home, that wonderful conversation replayed over and over in my mind. It made me think about the fact that this is a very special time of year. There are people thinking about Jesus, wondering about God and asking the same questions as my little co-shopper.

    It might be that, during this Christmas season, those of us who know the story, who believe the story, who have based our entire lives on the story, could have unique opportunities to speak our faith. It might give us that opening we need to invite someone to church. At this time of year, a co-worker might not balk at a question like, “What does Christmas mean to you?” — or, “What’s your favorite Christmas carol?” — or, “Our church chorus is doing a Christmas program — want to come?”

    Yes, many of us are a little nervous about “talking religion.” But this might be one of our best opportunities of the year. Give it a shot. You never know. You might be able to help someone know the answers to all those questions — and the angels will begin to sing again.