From October 27, 2015 – Too good to not share again.
My wife and I met at a Chilis a mile from our house. After a bite and conversation with one of our favorite bartenders, I walked my wife to her SUV and I head across the face of the restaurant to my Jeep. Out from the entrance of the restaurants comes a small herd of people. Leading the herd is a little girl about 4 or 5 years old. She sees me and make a bee-line towards me. I stop, more out of confusion than anything else. My presence does not deter her and in moments I am engulf in a hug only a 5 year old can offer. Seconds pass and I can do only one thing: I hug her back. Only after her parents warning, increasing in volume with each passing second, does she recant and back away from the stranger she has been hugging.
Her parents and other relative explain to her, and me, that her Grand Pa wears similar shirts but I am not him. The look on her face is one of humility and shame. In the mist of the family’s apology for the actions of the child, in-between the child looking down and averting her gaze, she glances directly at me. I catch her eyes for the necessary seconds and our gaze is locked. I tell her “Thank you for the hug” and for a long moment in time, everything everyone else is saying fades and she beams, for someone has thanked her for a gift she has no idea she has given.
I am blessed.
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