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Eavesdropping in New York, №5: Finding My Voice in the FedEx Store

Martin D. Hirsch
Curated Newsletters
3 min readSep 21, 2024

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My wife asked me to get her a new mouse for her laptop, so I stopped at the FedEx store right downstairs from our midtown apartment building on Madison Ave.

The FedEx store in the Murray Hill neighborhood in Manhattan. Photo by the author.

While I was waiting for the guy behind the counter to retrieve one from the stockroom, I noticed a young man a few steps away. He looked to be in his 20s, wearing olive green cargo pants and a tan T-shirt, with tattoos running up and down his wiry arms and a cell phone in his hand.

“Hi grandma,” I heard him say. His voice, facial expression, and entire bearing conveyed a gentle warmth and tenderness that immediately grabbed me.

“How are you feeling?” he went on.

“That’s good, grandma. They told me you were watching television. Are you enjoying the show you’re watching?”

“And are they feeding you well, grandma? Are you enjoying your meals?”

“That’s great, grandma. I’m really glad.”

And then, “I love you too Grandma. I’ll call again soon.”

By then the FedEx guy had returned with the mouse. I paid for it and turned toward the exit. But something possessed me to walk over to the kid and tell him, “You’ve got to be the greatest grandson in the world.”

He looked at me, beaming like I’d made his day. He told me his grandmother was 88 years old and had been in great health until she took a fall that stole her vitality and independence. After all she’d always done for him, he said, he was now happy to do anything at all to return her love and kindness.

We said goodbye and I left the store, feeling overcome by emotion, and even a bit misty-eyed. This little encounter was a really big deal for me, and it took me a minute to process it.

Throughout my life I’ve been reserved and reticent about initiating conversations with strangers. Now, all of a sudden, on a random afternoon at the FedEx store, something about this kid caused me to deviate from my normal pattern of behavior. By observing the kid’s heartwarming act of kindness, and allowing myself to express my appreciation to him for it, I brought joy to both of us and, if only momentarily, bonded us as fellow humans.

This experience flooded my mind with memories of all the things I wish I’d said to people but didn’t. My encounter with the kid seemed to unlock whatever door had been holding me back for all these years.

I made a promise to myself right then to keep that door open for good.

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Martin D. Hirsch
Martin D. Hirsch

Written by Martin D. Hirsch

Lapsed singer-songwriter, 35-year accidental company man, citizen of The Woodstock Nation, avid essayist, occasional poet, aspiring author, dogged evolutionary.

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