Kind Lady Helps An Old Woman Being Insulted, Unaware She Is The CEO's Mother

— Blessing, let her be, Kaima said, her voice quiet but steady, cutting through the snickers of the surrounding saleswomen. — The store is open to the public. She’s not hurting anything.

Blessing whipped her head around, her eyes flashing with venom. She took two aggressive steps toward Kaima, her face inches away.

— Excuse me? Did I ask for your opinion, Kaima? Go back to the back room and finish scrubbing the fingerprint smudges off the display cases. Or better yet, pack your things. You’re on thin ice as it is.

The old woman turned her gaze from Blessing to Kaima. For the first time, her eyes softened completely, glowing with a deep, piercing warmth. She looked at Kaima’s worn shoes, then up to her compassionate, tired eyes.

— Thank you, my child, the old woman said, her voice rich and melodic. — But do not trouble yourself over me. I am quite used to people mistaking the dust on a person's clothes for the value of their soul.

Blessing let out a harsh, barking laugh.

— Oh, spare us the philosophy lesson, old mother! If you can't afford a twenty-thousand-dollar diamond pendant, you have no business breathing the air in here. Security! Escort this woman out before she soils the carpets.

Before the security guard could step forward from his post by the entrance, Kaima did something that shocked everyone in the room. She walked right past Blessing, bypassed the counter, and approached the old woman with a gentle, respectful bow of her head.

— Welcome to Aurelia & Co., ma’am, Kaima said softly, ignoring Blessing’s gasp of absolute fury. — My name is Kaima. If you’re looking for something special today, I would be honored to show you our collection. Even if you just want to sit down and rest your feet from the heat outside, we have a chair in the back office.

The old woman smiled—a wide, beautiful smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and seemed to illuminate her careworn face.

— You are a good girl, Kaima, the woman whispered, her hand reaching out to lightly touch Kaima’s forearm. Her skin was rough, but her touch felt grounding, like an anchor in a storm. — Kindness is a rare jewel these days. Much rarer than the carbon sitting in these glass cases.

— What is your name, ma’am? Kaima asked gently, ignoring the death glare Blessing was giving her from across the room.

— People call me Mama Ebele, the old woman replied. Then, with a mysterious twinkle in her eye, she added, — And remember this day, my dear. What goes around, comes around very quickly in this world.

Before Blessing could order security to physically throw them both out, Mama Ebele turned around with unhurried dignity, gave one final, dismissive glance at the glittering chandeliers, and walked out the glass doors into the afternoon crowd.