My sisters and I loved to go grocery shopping with our mother when we
were little.While Mama waited in the checkout
line,we climed onto the
brown mechanical
horse opposite the counter.Because it cost a
dime to
make it pitch back and forth,we had to be content to sit on the horse
once a week and pretend we were ridind.
But suddenly,improbably,one day the long-still steed surged into
action.A man smiled at us.He looked like a farmer-he was slim and wore
a straw cowboy hat.Undoubtedly he\''d seen even less frivolity in his
life than we had.
A ride on a mechiancal horse doesn\''t last forever.We knew enough to
savor it to the fullest.And,after all these years,I\''ve tried to live
up to the example of the discreetly dropped-in dime.
I\''ve often wanted the chance to tell the man how much that single act
of kindness meant.But I imagine he has probably longsince gone to his
reward.I hope it\''s a big one.His dime has been earing interest.