Trending
One evening just a while ago, I went to the Hot Dog Shoppe on West Market Street for a couple of hot dogs and chili. Unusually, it wasn’t very crowded, so I sat down in the middle of a row of empty stools. As I was eating, I noticed a large family standing and waiting. Seeing that they might all want to sit together, I told the lady in the group that I would move down to one end. My server helped me move my stuff, and as I ate my meal, I engaged the lady in some small talk.
I didn’t get the usual check. When I asked for it, the server just shook her head and pointed to the man sitting at the other end. He was paying for my meal! How nice. I thanked him, shook his hand and was on my way. What a nice feeling. This certainly gave me something to think about.
This event reminded me of what had happened just before Father’s Day. I received a phone call from a gentleman who was very intent upon having me identify myself as the real Don Mumford. A bit cautiously I confirmed my identity.
He told me that he had found my debit card in the parking lot at Lowe’s. At first, I didn’t believe him, but a quick check of my wallet proved that it was indeed, missing. My caller promised to mail the card to me, and the very next day I received it. He had provided his name and address. Right away, I wrote a $25 check to him with a thank you note, and dropped it in the mail.
The next day, at the Father’s Day service at my church, there was a drawing for the fathers who were present. I won! The prize was $25. Again, here was something for me to ponder.
Two weeks ago yesterday, my Rotary Club had a meeting that was to include a guided tour of the Ernie Hall Aviation Museum that is just across North River Road from Howland Shepherd of the Valley where we meet.
I sat down to eat my lunch at a table with a friend I’ve known for at least 74 years. He was a visiting Rotarian and was with his lady friend who told me that he was just beginning to use a wheelchair.
I asked if they were going over to the museum. His friend didn’t think that would be possible, but I assured her that I was accustomed to moving wheelchair-bound people, because my sister is in a wheelchair. I could get such a handicapped person into my car and load the wheelchair into the trunk with little fuss.
To be safe, though, I enlisted the help of a fellow Rotarian, because my friend’s partner is quite petite. We made it to the guided tour of the museum, and I believe my dear old friend was quite pleased.
After I returned him and his lady to Shepherd, where he now lives, there was a bit of hugging and tearing up. I returned to my car, and sat there for a bit, thinking about what had just transpired. Nice.
On the way home I stopped at Kmart to stock up on batteries for some of the electronic stuff in my home. I said hello to my new friend who was ringing the bell on a six-hour shift for the Salvation Army, but I put nothing in the bucket this time.
I selected nearly a year’s supply of various batteries and walked to checkout. The lady in line in front of me was wearing a very tight head scarf – I suspected why.
I put my batteries on the counter keeping them separate from her items. With a sweep of her hand she moved my batteries in with her stuff. She said, “I’m buying your batteries.” I protested. Besides, I told her, just a few batteries can be very expensive. She said, “Look, I’m dying of cancer and I can’t take it with me. Merry Christmas.”
Very awkwardly, I thanked her, not knowing quite what to say. I think she understood. On the way out, I stuffed that Salvation Army bucket with a couple of large bills. Once again, here was something for me to ponder.
Here’s hoping you have a wonderful Christmas.
Mumford, of Warren, is a community columnist. Email him at columns@tribtoday.com