I entered the store as always – with a shopping list in my pocket and with a smile that I liked to keep even in the simplest moments of the day. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/19cb85/620x0/1/0/2025/04/26/cvzu9k99c99crlvyqdldkvkcckMed13yttoyyyyqaj8xbn.jpg" alt = "from life taken." Quot; I refused to accept shopping & quot;: The saleswoman laughed at my age and I do not intend to tolerate it " Style = "background-color: rgba (104.73.52.1)" > < p > I was tired but happy & ndash; I enjoyed this little daily routine. Shopping, conversations, minor gestures of kindness. I believed that the world, though faster and faster, still knows the concept of respect.
< p > A young saleswoman approached. The smile on the face quickly gave way to bored. She threw products on the counter, sighing demonstratively. I pretended to see it. Until I heard how, not even to tile the voice, she said to her friend:
< p > & ndash; Of course, the elders have time to walk around the store. They could sit at home, not bother.
< p > Blood hit my head. I squeezed a wallet in my hand, looked at my purchases & ndash; ordinary, modest & ndash; And suddenly I felt that no bread, no milk, no apples are worth losing dignity.
< p > calmly, though I was full inside, pushed the bags. < p > & ndash; Thank you. I give up the purchase of & oacute; w. < br /> and I added: < br /> & ndash; Nobody will chase me out of my life just because I have gray hair. < p > I felt like shopping not only, but for any justifications that could be submitted to P & oacute; < P > because age is not a shame. I left the store lighter than I entered. < br /> not with nets in my hands. < br /> with dignity, which & oacute; rej did not allow myself to pick up anyone. < /p >