Daisy and I ran into the library the other morning to pick up a book on hold. As we walked up to the door Daisy was amazed at the posture, mannerisms, etc. exhibited by the students mulling around. (The library is part of a government high school.) We walked in and she returned a bunch of books while I grabbed our hold and checked it out.
On the way out the door she and I encountered the “someone’s-coming-through-the-door-there’s-a-male-in-the-group-do-we-alter-our-step-or-get-ready-to-be-walked-through” dilemma. (Equally as odd as the “do-I-alter-my-step-or-brace-against-a-probable-door-to-the-face” dilemma.)
Closer examination (the quick-sum-them-up-by-dress-and-demeanor) showed that there was at least not likely to be attitude that we were on the earth breathing in the near vicinity. Just as we were preparing to step to the side allowing the other party right of way, another miracle . . .
The young boy, no more than 6 or 7, RAN to get in front of his mother. Not to ‘beat her’ to the door in the ‘I-am-man-I-must-win” sort of way, but in the, “I-am-man-I-must-get-the-door-for-the-ladies-that-approacheth-from-the-other-side” sort of way.
Sure enough, he got ahead of his mother, locked on with both hands, pulled with all his might (they are heavy doors, especially when you’re so little) and stood proudly as his mother’s face lit up and Daisy and I proceeded through the door.
These seconds were used for eye contact with the mother and further summing up of her and her children.
Me “Thank you very much, young man. That was quite handsome of you.”
Boy BEAMING “I know” sort of grin.
Me “Home Educators?” I asked of the mom.
Mom Knowing smile, “Yes.”
Me “Nice work!”
Mom (as she looks at Daisy) “And to you!”
Isn’t it interesting . . . we don’t have matching jackets, a club hand shake, or a secret sign – yet one just knows . . .
Aroma of the heart, I guess.