This weekend my family and I went to my husband’s company picnic, it was nice. Okay, I hate to complain but DAMN it was HOT! South Carolina in August is no joke 100% humidity with a temperature in devilish degrees. However, we forgot all about the heat once we coaxed my husband into volunteering for the dunk tank. The 11:00-11:15 a.m dunk tank slot was open, and all the kids were waiting anxiously to dunk an adult; none of the adults were raising their hand in the air. My husband went ahead and volunteered for a group of kids to line-up and dunk him countlessly for 15 minutes. It was AWESOME! My kids of course were the most eager to dunk my hubby.
We left the picnic after my husband’s dunkin’ to all go home and freshen up, because ewe dunk tank water, 100% humidity, and devilish degrees. We decided to take the kids for a surprise ice cream stop before we headed to an early dinner. We took a little stroll down King Street, forgetting apparently that it was devilishly hot outside, and stopped off at Jenis.
I was the official sampler because, I don’t eat dairy, but I do sample 🙂
If you ever get the opportunity to visit Jenis may I suggest… dark coffee, the buckeye, and bramleberry. YUM!
All of this was well and good. I absolutely enjoyed my time with my family, however it was something else that made my day even brighter. My faith in humanity was restored, even if it was just for a weekend, I was on a kindness high.
There is a certain look here in Charleston, it’s boat shoes, button ups, and salmon shorts. It’s clean cut, Sunday casual, and traditional. Some people may think stuffy or presumptuous but remember Charleston is known as ‘the’ friendliest city in America. I have to admit there are times I forget that the title is held here in the area, but Saturday I reminded.
A man dressed in what looked like his favorite Sperry topsiders, khaki shorts, and a long sleeve button up, was walking down the street holding a pizza box while eating a slice of pizza. About 2 to 4 feet away there was a gentleman who looked a bit down on his luck. That man was wearing a t-shirt and black jeans; he wasn’t toting a hot box of pizza, instead he was hoisting up his weathered bike. He asked or said something to the man with the pizza box/pizza in hand. The man didn’t look annoyed, he still looked content eating his pizza as he peeked into his box and grabbed a slice for the man, while handing it off.
It was a small gesture, sure. However, to me it was h u g e. My eyes teared up. He didn’t have to share, if he wanted to, he could’ve walked away, but instead without the slightest bit of hesitation he shared. He didn’t even know my family and I saw this kind act. He just did it.
So, when I saw the building pictured above on King Street, it was of course the best sign. People Matter.
© 2014, Dean @Mrs. AOK, A Work In Progress. All rights reserved.