My daughter and son-in-law live in a small rural town in central Missouri a little more than an hour away from the suburb that I call home. Their little town is pretty famous for its 4th of July celebration ... it lasts for several days and includes everything you would expect and more. From carnival rides to food trucks to craftsmen selling their wares to a prettiest baby contest to a talent show to a parade to the best diet root beer in the entire universe to live music from various bands to the longest-lasting fireworks display I've ever attended, the little town that has stolen the hearts of my kids does it up right when it comes to the 4th of July.
I've suspected for a while that while they look forward to and enjoy their town's public festivities each year, what Meghann and Barrett love most about the days-long 4th of July celebration are the various family events they are invited to attend. I can't even remember how many times I heard the words, "These two kids are family to us," during the course of this past weekend. Those of you who are parents know how good it feels when people tell you how great your kids are? Well, multiply that feeling by a million when people tell you they love your kids like they are part of their own family. Seeing my daughter and son-in-law be accepted and included and loved on by so many people in their church and their community is just plain old awesome. And getting to tag along with them and eat some of the best home cooking I've ever tasted is definitely a nice bonus.
I'm not sure how many years Meghann and Barrett have been invited to an extra special family celebration after the town's fireworks display, but I do know it's become a tradition for them to attend. The family who hosts the homemade ice cream and cake party are very, very dear to my kids, and the love they have for one another is deep and real. The mom and pop of the clan, Dixie and Roy, are two of the finest people I've ever met, and I so appreciate how they've made my daughter and son-in-law a part of their extended family. Their children are great people as well, and their grandkids ... well, you know me and kiddos ... I had a high old time building blocks with the 2-year-old little guy of the group and chit-chatting with the elementary-age kids as well.
It doesn't bother me at all when my kids or granddaughters eat sweets in front of me, not even a little bit. I don't feel uncomfortable or different or out of place at all. But when I'm in a group of people I don't know very well and they're all chowing down on dessert, I often feel like a fish out of water. Even though my brain knows they aren't, I feel like everyone is staring at me while they wonder why I'm being so rude by refusing to eat dessert like everyone else. It doesn't happen every time, but last night, maybe because I was extra tired, when the ice cream and cake came out, I instantly felt my heart start pounding and the sweat begin to bead up on my forehead. After my second or third, "No thanks" in response to the well-meaning and very kind people who asked if I wanted ice cream, I felt like a had a neon sign stapled to my chest that said, "Rudest person on earth." And just when I thought I was going to have to make a run for it so as not to further embarrass Meghann and Barrett, an angel appeared and asked me if I'd like some watermelon. Actually, she's Dixie and Roy's daughter-in-law, but at that moment, she really was nothing short of an angel to me.
Here's the thing, friends ... I'm not sure if that sweet young lady noticed the look of panic in my eyes or if perhaps someone in her family has diabetes or if she simply knew I felt completely out of place. And you know what else? It doesn't matter to me one bit what motivated her to offer me some watermelon ... what matters to me is that she wanted me to feel included in the party ... what matters to me is that she was kind to me ... what matters to me is that she took it upon herself to make me not feel like an outsider. That little bowl of watermelon that sweet young woman placed in my hands last night meant more to me than she'll ever know. She didn't have to do that, you know ... there was a lot of activity in that house last night, and she didn't have to notice. But she did.
Watermelon-flavored kindness ... I'll never eat another bite of watermelon without thinking of a young woman's kindness on a 4th of July in a small rural town in Missouri. I'll never walk into a room of people and not look for that one person who may need a bowl of watermelon all their own. I'll never forget a special young woman who took the time to dish me up a great big bowl of watermelon-flavored kindness ... nope, I surely, surely won't.
No comments:
Post a Comment