My friend Phyllis introduced me to the annual Harvest Festival in San Jose years ago and today was the day. Mel and Kris are always there and that’s reason enough for me to go, and time with Phyl, too? Hey. Count me in.
So we made a beeline for them and the four of us chatted for a little while. Would they be willing to hold my purchases so we didn’t have to carry the heavy bag everywhere? Of course.
Phyl wanted to make sure I got to see everything and so we did, circling back at last to our friends. A pitcher, a large serving bowl, a soup bowl with a handle (so now I have two, which makes more sense than just one) and a small kid-size mug. Really pretty stuff, all of it.
I was at home pulling each item at a time carefully out of its newspaper wrappings when one of their business cards fell out onto the floor. My hands were full so I didn’t get to it immediately.
A minute or two later, a second one fluttered down. I grinned and picked them both up–and somehow happened to turn one of them over.
I’d been so worried over trying to write my name legibly on the credit card slip with that broken hand that I never even saw what the amount had come to.
They totally got me.
