Thank You Letters

Dear Woman-of-A-Certain-Age at Sam's,

Thank you for telling me I didn't look old enough to have ever enjoyed fresh blackberries off the vine growing wild in the backwoods. You were so tickled to realize we shared a common childhood experience. When I told you I had recently hit 40, your look of appreciative surprise was priceless. But most of all, I thank you for sharing your childhood memories of berry-picking on your family farm in Kentucky. The expression of beauty on your face (a face which I suspect is younger than your true age, also) as you recollected the countless expeditions of your youth lifted me, pulled me up and back, to a simpler, kinder time. Standing in the midst of a Sam's warehouse, I felt the prick of thorns on my fingers, envisioned the spread of inky juice across my hands, and tasted the warm sweetness of fresh sunshine right off the sprawling brambles. We both left the display cooler with our packages of California blackberries, more blessed than we came.

Quite Simply . . . You Made My Day.


Dear Woman-of-Color-at-Wal-Mart,

Thank you for expressing your admiration of my haircut and style with such spontaneous appreciation. You touched me with your sincerity. It was made all the more pleasing by the fact that a January monsoon was pouring forth from the mid-afternoon skies and you were attempting to hurriedly cram your body into the passenger-side of the four-door sedan which had pulled up to the curb to pick you up. I was standing beside you, having left my cart in the dry foyer of the store to escort you to your destination with the help of my umbrella. You'd been waiting for the storm to pass so as to save your hair from losing its mind after the time, effort and product you'd lavished on it earlier that day. I know the price you paid to achieve that do; wasting it would have been a shame. Despite the genuine surprise that flashed in your eyes at my offer to assist you, thank you for being game and allowing me to pay it forward in some small way. I hope you saw the glorious double rainbow that followed that deluge.

Quite Simply . . . You Made My Day


Dear Woman-Who-Hates-Me-As-A-Friend-To-Her-Daughter,

Thank you for reminding me that no matter how young I might appear or how good my coiffure might be on any given Thursday, no one can ever fully know who I am by these aspects alone. As if I could ever forget. But, you provided valuable reinforcement today. You raised yourself a splendid eldest daughter and it's hard to let go, and harder still to value the input of other mothers and women in her young life when you still feel there is so much yet for YOU to impart to your firstborn. Never did I intend to step on your toes. When I enjoyed hot tea with your girl or prepared a meal to share with her, it was with respect to you and the job you do. We are fellow women and mothers and wives on this big rotating ball of land and gas and sea.
I pray for the veil of fear and closed-mindedness to fall from your eyes and allow you to see this from my perspective. What I did not have at your daughter's age, I now possess in abundance. I give to my children and the children of other's from that place. You nursed her spark and I would protect it to the death to thank you.

Quite Simply . . . You Made My Day