Beau­ti­ful peo­ple, all hav­ing a good day

Winnipeg Free Press - Section G - - THE SOCIAL PAGE -

OCT. 20, what a great day this was go­ing to be! My son would be ar­riv­ing from Sydney, Aus­tralia, later that day for a visit with his old man (age 88).

To cel­e­brate, I arose early and washed the kitchen floor. (Me and my dog live alone, and it some­times gets a bit messy.)

Not to change my usual Satur­day morn­ing rou­tine, I walked the six or so blocks to Portage Av­enue and caught the No. 11 bus to Polo Park. I en­tered the mall at the Ness en­trance, waved to the (beau­ti­ful) bar­bers at Man­hat­tan. A short walk in the mall, then I pur­chased the Free Press and headed to Sec­ond Cup for some java.

Here’s where the ac­tion be­gan. While fum- bling for my change (I’m an ex­act fare tran­sit re­tiree), a dime slipped out of my hands. Not an or­di­nary dime, this one landed on its edge and took off to­ward the el­e­va­tors.

I should have men­tioned that just be­fore the er­rant dime took off, I no­ticed a young woman greet a dear friend. I as­sumed a sis­ter and brother re­union for cof­fee.

This young lady seemed just as amazed as I was at this crazy dime head­ing for the el­e­va­tors.

“Cof­fee money,” she said and re­trieved the dime. I headed for the java counter.

The clerk took my or­der, a small medi­um­roast java, and asked if I wanted any­thing else... Well yes, I said I’d like a piece of car­rot cake but not to­day.

I went to pick up the java, and there it was: a piece of car­rot cake. “All paid for,” said the clerk. “How come? Who paid?” “The lady ahead of you.” I quickly thanked her and asked why. No an­swer.

“I know,” I said, “you’re hav­ing a good day.” That’s it.

Like me, meet­ing my son later af­ter sev­eral years ab­sence. She also was hav­ing a good day. Peo­ple are beau­ti­ful.

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