A Dime Remembered
My sisters and I loved to go grocery shopping with our mother when we were little.While Mama waited in the checkout line,we climed onto the brown mechanical horse opposite the counter.Because it cost a dime to make it pitch back and forth,we had to be content to sit on the horse once a week and pretend we were ridind.
But suddenly,improbably,one day the long-still steed surged into action.A man smiled at us.He looked like a farmer-he was slim and wore a straw cowboy hat.Undoubtedly he'd seen even less frivolity in his life than we had.
A ride on a mechiancal horse doesn't last forever.We knew enough to savor it to the fullest.And,after all these years,I've tried to live up to the example of the discreetly dropped-in dime.
I've often wanted the chance to tell the man how much that single act of kindness meant.But I imagine he has probably longsince gone to his reward.I hope it's a big one.His dime has been earing interest. |
