She works in the floral department of my grocery store.
She and I have become friends.
The first time I talked to her, she was inflating three balloons for me.
We talked about family, our culture, losing a loved one, and hard work.

We just solved the problems of the world, I teased as she handed me my balloons.
That conversation seemed to solidify the two of us as kindred spirits.
I gave that name to us that day since we thought so much alike.
She seemed to know the Anne of Green Gables reference to Anne and Diana.

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A friend of mine loves animals.
She raised three daughters and homeschooled each of them.
She wanted to find a little job she could do that would still allow her to be at home.
She decided that she would take care of her neighbor’s pets while they were away or at work.

She told me about how wonderful her job was for her health and well being.
Walking dogs a few times a day gave her the exercise she longed for without going to the gym.
She loves people and walking the dogs allowed her to meet people on her walks.
She cared for whatever animals were in the person’s home and she loved every minute of it.

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I admit, I used to watch The Brady Bunch.
Every girl my age, at the time, wanted to be Marcia.
I confess that I even wrote her a letter when I was one of those pre-teen girls.
I never got an answer from her, but I got a letter from Jan and Peter.

Those letters got tucked away with other memorabilia.
Tucked away like my Happy Days book, signed by Richie, Fonzie, Ralph, and Potsie.
When I got older, I saw no need for those “childish things.”
I simply gave them away.

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I was walking behind them in the direction of the cash registers.
I heard the woman who was close to my age call the other woman, Mom.
The woman who was close to my age had a full shopping cart of clothes.
The woman she called, Mom, had clothes in her cart as well, but it was not as full.

I only had two things in my hand.
Around the holidays, this store will have a red velvet rope.
The rope is used so that a queue is formed.
I was wishing for such a rope except there is no need for queue formation in the summer.

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I love to make soup.
I enjoy making all kinds of soup.
Everyone in my family has their favorite.
My husband likes them all.

After a meal of homemade soup, my husband will always make the same announcement.
Your Mom makes the best soup in the world.
My husband is extremely prejudice.
My son, who is a lawyer, always has a comeback.

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It was the day of the church picnic.
The temperature was to be in the low 90’s.
The picnic was held at a local park, which has a pavilion, a ball field, and a playground.
There is quite a bit of shade at the park and there always seems to be a breeze.

Some of us were part of the committee.
We all had our jobs to do to make sure the day was delightful for everyone.
We had men and boys lift tables and supplies.
The food was ordered ahead of time and only desserts were asked to be brought.

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I have a confession.
Copy machines intimidate me.
It is a silly thing.
The intimidation is very real.

My daughter is an intern this summer.
She is a mercy ministry intern for a non-profit organization.
She is living on the outskirts of the city of Philadelphia with the other interns.
The interns serve in different groups that will minister to the people in the community.

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I really do not remember all the ins and outs of learning to swim.
I remember the rules.
I remember the ropes that marked off the shallow water from the deep end.
I remember the baby pool.

As children got older, the name of that pool was an embarrassment.
No one wanted to go into the baby pool.
The swim club soon renamed it the wading pool.
That was much better.

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It was my special place.
To anyone else, it was just a basement.
To me, it was my hideaway.
It was a place of music and dreaming.

The walls in my special place were paneled like many walls in the 1960s.
I was allowed to decorate this space anyway I wanted.
I covered the paneled walls with posters.
Posters that every pre-teen and teenage girl had on her wall at that time.

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I can still picture her on the table.
She was on the table next to our sofa in the living room.
I remember the philodendron plant that thrived there.
I remember the way the plant cascaded down the side of the table closest to the front door.

It was a figurine of a little girl.
She had pigtails with red bows.
She was wearing green slippers.
She was holding an apron in her hands ready to wrap it around her waist.

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