Make my day every time.

The rain  came pelting down. On my way home from the grocery store. With two full cloth grocery bags hoisted over my shoulders. Like a backpack.  I sought shelter beneath an umbrella pine tree. Named appropriately. Because the tree with thick and long needles  more or less served as an umbrella. Still, I was getting a little bit wet. When a lady with an umbrella came out to fetch her mail. She saw me. Came over. Stood next to me. And shared her umbrella. Talked to me. In Italian. At best, I speak broken Italian. She gathered that. But we communicated. Conversed. Also, with the help of sign language. She motioned with her fingers. Asking if I walk regularly, I think. She’s probably seen me many times. I pointed down the street. To where I live. Think she understood. Then I practiced some of  my memorized Italian on her – that I’m lucky to be in Sardinia. And that I like Italy. The rain let up. And we parted. Saying goodbye to each other. In Italian. Little things.  Such as this. Make my day every time. –Jim Broede