I haven’t been in the best of moods lately, but my spirits were lifted earlier today by a young man well on his way to being a future person of great character.
I was in the market, running at what Mel Brooks would call ludicrous speed*, trying to finish my grocery shopping in time to pick up my mother from an appointment. Approaching the pickle barrel for a much-needed addition to our upcoming sandwiches for lunch, a young fellow of about eight or nine was standing by while his mother awaited her deli number to be called. “Pickle?” he asked. I looked over, smiled and replied, “Pickle,” in the affirmative. He proceeded to hand me the tongs and raise the lid so I could select my purchase.
I was nearly moved to tears by this simple act. “I’ll tell you something, young man,” I said to him; “If more adult men treated me as kindly as you did just now, I would be a happy person all of the time. Thank you very much.”
I had to leave then, or I might have lost it.
His mother should be proud.
*(That was from Space Balls.)
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