Handshake with a Stranger

     Our weekly shopping had been completed and the bags of groceries were tucked away in the trunk of the car. This part of the routine typically follows eating breakfast at a favorite restaurant. The logic behind this is the advice that one should never go to the supermarket on an empty stomach, or else you'll end up at the cash register loaded down with lots of impulse items (usually high calorie). Personally, I haven't noticed my stomach and brain communicating with each other any better after breakfast than before, but I'm not one to turn down a delicious omelet ... so I'm willing to keep testing the theory.

     Only one errand remained before heading back home to spend a rainy day indoors. The fuel gauge on the car was registering 1/4 full. I pulled into a station, far enough forward so that my husband would be standing under the awning instead of in the drizzling rain. That put me close enough to notice several stickers in the window of the vehicle parked directly ahead of me.

     I leaned forward (stupid bi-focals) and realized that the gentleman who owned the car was a veteran. He displayed the branch of service, the company he had been assigned to, and a specific battle in which he had participated. I opened my car door and stepped out, calling out, "Sir?" He turned to me and shook his head, "I don't hear well." The stranger slowly walked toward me, and I stepped toward him while pointing to the stickers on his back window.

     "I just wanted to thank you for your service, especially with Veterans' Day coming up this week." I held out my hand; he returned my smile with his own as we exchanged a friendly handshake.

     All politics aside, right or wrong, ... world history wears a human face. Thank you for the freedom I enjoyed this morning to eat a hearty breakfast, shop from a plentiful selection of produce, fill my car with gas and return to my warm home. Thank you.