Another Encounter

While at the local Braums with the girls a few days ago (see prior post), we had to wait in line for a period of time. I told you in that earlier post about an encounter with a couple of women who had come in after we did and told you that I’d speak to another encounter in a later post.
The women we let into the line ahead of us were being served, and I was waiting at the end of our line. A man got into line with us and struck up a typical conversation just to pass the time. I had my badge on which identified as a worker at the home.
Two things struck me about the encounter with the man.
First, the conversation with him was entirely a normal one. Now, that may not make much sense to you unless you understand that virtually ALL of the time when someone we meet finds out what we do, the conversation immediately goes toward something like, “How do you do it?” or “You must be really special to work with the girls,” or some such.
I don’t mind those conversations. They help me understand the nature of what my wife and I do. But it truly was pleasant for a change to not hear that and have to respond in some way, and instead, at the end of the conversation just hear a “Have a good evening.”
Second, there was no distancing of himself from either the girls or from us. Many times, probably because folks don’t understand, they tend to both physically and emotionally distance themselves from both the girls and us. Perhaps they think the girls are from a detention facility or in some way are a danger. I don’t know. But it was nice to have a normal encounter with someone who seemed to appreciate the situation and didn’t over react to us.
You might think the man didn’t realize where I worked. He did, and our chit-chat showed that he did. But the “normalcy” of the conversation was refreshing, and his closing “good evening” seemed to me to be more than just some way to disengage from me. I felt good about the interaction and was pleased to have been part of it.
I don’t know. Maybe I see things in life that aren’t really there. Maybe I concentrate too much on the small things. Maybe I read too much into these kinds of interactions. But I’ll remember this pleasant encounter for quite a while in the days to come.