Politics, open government, and safe streets. And the constant incursion of cycling.

Small things are big

Went to my law school for a lecture this evening.   The route there took me past the Cart Lady.  I don’t know her name.  She doesn’t know mine.  Our command of the other’s language is limited to nonexistent.  So we don’t really know each other.  But she did feed me one out of every three meals for nearly three years.  And even though that started over 10 years ago, she recognized me.  She stopped me, said that it had been a long time, asked if I had a good job, and offered me a free one of my old favorites.

How could that not make anyone’s day?


Rural Serenity


Opt-out (or: Recall^H^H^H)

1 Comment

  1. Nice story. I suspect you know each other better than you think you do.

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