We were dining Saturday afternoon in the highly upscale eatery at our local mall. (It's just a food court; I'm over-dramatizing.) While I feasted on a gourmet chicken sandwich, Hubby & Son enjoyed the delicacy of pepperoni pizza. A Supermom, who was alone with her 3 kids, was attempting to push a stroller, direct her older kids, and balance a plastic tray carrying their afternoon meal. Well, Supermoms fall. She somehow dropped the cup of French fries from her tray, spilling them all over the floor. I didn't notice the event until she was picking up the last of the fries. I felt bad for not noticing sooner and helping her. I've been there and done that. It's hard not to cry when faced with such frustration. I told Hubby about it who decided he must spring into action. He went back to the kiosk and bought her another cup of fries. When he took them over to her table (where she sat not eating, having thrown her lunch in the trash), I enjoyed seeing her look of sheer surprise. He didn't expect a thank you or anything in return. He just wanted to be a nice guy. It made her day. It made my day. I'm just thankful for people in this world who still care. And I'm very grateful to be married to one. He's a hero to some. He's a hero to me.
1 comment:
That's so sweet! Your husband sounds a lot like mine. It's wonderful being married to a man that you admire. :)
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