Every once in a Sunday, the little girl who lives next door sets up a pink card table and chair in her front yard next to the sidewalk. If we happen to glance out the window and see her, the girls will squeal and run for the dish of change on Randy's desk. "Sam! Sam!" they yell as they run outside in their socks to buy some homemade trail mix.
Last weekend, Sam had dried Turkish apricots, smoked almonds, Triscuits that tasted like bacon (do they come in Bacon flavor?) and pretzels piled in coffee filters. She mixed up a little combo for each of the girls and they carefully carried them home in their floppy paper bowls. I'm loving the apricots and wondering if Sam ever sits out there without any customers coming. She doesn't ring our doorbell or her own bell, as the knife-sharpener does as he walks by. She just sits and waits, patiently.
And. My niece Maggie, who just completed her pre-med degree, is in South Africa for the spring, working with AIDS orphans. You can read her blog about the amazing experience here. Seeing her smiling face as she hugs the sweet children makes my heart swell.