in the neighborhood i grew up, in lemon grove CA, i was playing with my friend melody. there was a house with beautiful roses and flowers growing in the yard and my friend and i decided we needed to pick one. just as we were picking a rose, the owner of the house came out. we panicked and started to run. the elderly lady who lived there called after us. we ran out of sight and i had a crisis of conscience so we decided to go back and face the music.
we walked fearfully up to the house - pilfered rose in hand. we apologized and told her we just wanted one of her flowers because they were so beautiful. she invited us inside and we talked. she had freezers full of the most wonderful home baked treats. she sent us home with extra treats and hand-picked a bouquet of her most beautiful flowers. that was the first of our visits - i came fairly often after that. she always had stories - and treats. as an 8 year old i enjoyed listening to her and couldn't believe my luck because of all the fantastic treats from her freezer.
when this memory hit me this evening, i was struck by a new perspective. as a child i never wondered why she had a whole garage freezer full of home made treats. now i find it poignant. i am glad that my childhood transgression of trying to steal a flower bloomed into the friendship that it did. i am glad that that sweet old lady (whose name, regrettably, i do not remember) found someone to give her treats to and tell stories to - and i am glad that i learned that you just never know what to make of people - sometimes you just have to go talk to them.
