Citruese Body Lotion
Every year Mt. Sinai’s African Culture Committee opens the hospital doors to small businesses, like Butter, to sell their products and services to staff, visitors, patients and anyone who needs a gift or pick me up trinket to add sparkle to their day. This year I was so blessed and lucky to have been recommended by one of my fabulous customers. Over the last three weeks on each Friday, I displayed and sold my collection to a diverse and appreciative group of women and men. What a fabulous experience. Not only did I bring in some decent revenue but I made new friends and established new customer relationships. This is the part of selling that I love, relationship building, whether it’s selling high end properties or high end body lotion. It’s all a feel good experience.
As I ran my little set up table, I couldn’t help but be reminded of where I was…a hospital. This is a place where people come to be treated, diagnosed or told that what ales them may shorten their time on this beautiful earth.
Between customer inquiries, purchases and girlie chatter, out the corner of my eye I noticed the father breaking down in tears in front of his grown daughter because the loved one who occupied a bed upstairs may have not been recovering the way they had hoped. For every 10 staff members there were at least 3 patients rolling around in their wheel chairs or dragging huge monitors and intravenous bags . At some point, all I wanted to do was run up to them with a bottle of my citruese lotion and squirt some in their hands…”here, take this, on the house”.
Fragrance can be so uplifting, motivating and sometimes mind boggling. A tasteful scent can trasform moods and sometimes sense of being.
Being in that hospital, however, took me back 25 years to a period in my life when my childhood stopped short as I found myself in the sterile hospital room of my beloved Grandma Evelyn as she battled a year with breast cancer, a battle she did not win. Every day my mom ran between her office and the hospital tending to Grandma’s needs. I don’t think I’ve spent as much time among hospital staff and patients since then until this month at Mt. Sinai. And you know what? It was as if a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. Confronting my hospital phobias (stemming from those days with my Granny) in a positive manner was strangely comforting.
After my first Friday at Mt. Sinai, I couldn’t wait for the next Friday, and it wasn’t solely about making money. It was about smiling at everyone that walked by, whether they stopped to check out the collection or not. It was about eating hospital cafeteria food that was actually delicious and extremely affordable. But most importantly, it was about being grateful for my presence in this world, my clean bill of health, and the fun moments I had with Grandma when she had a clean bill of health. We should all be so lucky…
Keep your skin soft…
luv,
Keba
