Kelsey, gotta showyou what happened to me (for me?) when we were attending Utah’s Grand Lodge last month.
They had a tour planned for the ladies, followed by the ladies’ luncheon at the place they were going to be visiting. But there would be a ton of walking and a long stairway involved, and I just can’t do that anymore. So we didn’t buy me a ticket, and I figured I’d just go to the restaurant at the hotel when I finally got hungry, then go back up to our room, take a long bath, and be ready for the evening’s formal event when the Masons were done with their afternoon session. I sat in the beautiful lobby and read for awhile then decided it must be about lunchtime and I headed for the restaurant.
I was seated at a table that overlooked the outer court. To be quite honest I felt the beginnings of a bit of a pity party coming on. There I was at an event with hundreds of people, and I was sitting at a beautiful table for two all by myself. It’s times like that when I start getting a little down about physical limitations that my mind says should be decades down the road yet. My meal was served, but by then I’d spotted a deer at the end of the treeline and started watching her with interest. I’d ordered a Cobb salad so I wasn’t worried about my lunch getting cold, I was on no timetable, and needed the distraction. She wandered around for a bit, then she decided that she really didn’t want to eat alone and joined me for lunch. I did see a few others at the tree line, but my new friend either wasn’t aware of them yet or preferred my company. So we sat together - actually she stood - I ate my greens, and she ate hers.
We chatted about nothing for a bit. The conversation turned to men-folk leaving us to our own devices for extended periods, the constant wandering around to be with others of our own kind - other Masonic folks for me and other deer for her. We discussed kids and grandkids and just generally shared our own thoughts on solving the world’s issues. Obviously we disagreed on gun control, but were pretty much in sync otherwise. The waitress came over to refill my iced tea and she smiled at me, then at my lunch companion. “Hi, Munchie.” She said. Oh, so her name is Munchie...I’d forgotten to ask, or tell her my name, so when the waitress moved off I apologized to my new friend for my oversight in introducing myself. I was immediately forgiven.
All too soon she saw her other friends waiting for her, so she said goodbye and wandered off to join them. I was finished with my salad, and that hot bath beckoned, so I paid my check and I wandered off too. But Munchie taught me something important - that you’re only as alone in this world as you think you are, and friends can be found in some of the most unlikely places. But you have to turn your eyes from looking inward to looking outward and up to find them.
As I was walking out, the waitress told me that the glass windows are super dark so the deer can’t see people moving around inside the restaurant. Munchie especially likes the shrubbery right around the table where I was seated. Ha! I much prefer to think that just at a time when I was falling into a “poor me” trap, Munchie decided to join me to see if she could help. And she absolutely did.
They had a tour planned for the ladies, followed by the ladies’ luncheon at the place they were going to be visiting. But there would be a ton of walking and a long stairway involved, and I just can’t do that anymore. So we didn’t buy me a ticket, and I figured I’d just go to the restaurant at the hotel when I finally got hungry, then go back up to our room, take a long bath, and be ready for the evening’s formal event when the Masons were done with their afternoon session. I sat in the beautiful lobby and read for awhile then decided it must be about lunchtime and I headed for the restaurant.
I was seated at a table that overlooked the outer court. To be quite honest I felt the beginnings of a bit of a pity party coming on. There I was at an event with hundreds of people, and I was sitting at a beautiful table for two all by myself. It’s times like that when I start getting a little down about physical limitations that my mind says should be decades down the road yet. My meal was served, but by then I’d spotted a deer at the end of the treeline and started watching her with interest. I’d ordered a Cobb salad so I wasn’t worried about my lunch getting cold, I was on no timetable, and needed the distraction. She wandered around for a bit, then she decided that she really didn’t want to eat alone and joined me for lunch. I did see a few others at the tree line, but my new friend either wasn’t aware of them yet or preferred my company. So we sat together - actually she stood - I ate my greens, and she ate hers.
We chatted about nothing for a bit. The conversation turned to men-folk leaving us to our own devices for extended periods, the constant wandering around to be with others of our own kind - other Masonic folks for me and other deer for her. We discussed kids and grandkids and just generally shared our own thoughts on solving the world’s issues. Obviously we disagreed on gun control, but were pretty much in sync otherwise. The waitress came over to refill my iced tea and she smiled at me, then at my lunch companion. “Hi, Munchie.” She said. Oh, so her name is Munchie...I’d forgotten to ask, or tell her my name, so when the waitress moved off I apologized to my new friend for my oversight in introducing myself. I was immediately forgiven.
All too soon she saw her other friends waiting for her, so she said goodbye and wandered off to join them. I was finished with my salad, and that hot bath beckoned, so I paid my check and I wandered off too. But Munchie taught me something important - that you’re only as alone in this world as you think you are, and friends can be found in some of the most unlikely places. But you have to turn your eyes from looking inward to looking outward and up to find them.
As I was walking out, the waitress told me that the glass windows are super dark so the deer can’t see people moving around inside the restaurant. Munchie especially likes the shrubbery right around the table where I was seated. Ha! I much prefer to think that just at a time when I was falling into a “poor me” trap, Munchie decided to join me to see if she could help. And she absolutely did.
love the story
