CELEBRATING: A WEEK OF GOOD PEOPLE

There’s a phrase that I like—good people. As in, “She’s good people.” “He’s good people.”

The phrase probably has no logic for non-English speaking folks; but this isn’t about logic. This is about some people in my life who all, without collaboration, did something nice for me lately.

Take Dave: Dave is a home-grown contractor whose work is always excellent. You can depend on that. His workers recently finished a job for me, and Dave himself came to inspect the work, ask me if it was what I wanted, and while he was here, I wrote him a check for the work. Same amount as the estimate. We talked a little while—even though I’m not a native, I know quite a few of the folks he does—and before he left, I walked him around to see some further work I’d like done, probably next year. He inspected the pull-down attic steps, discovered a loose bolt, and said he’d come back with another one the next day. And he did. Spent less than 10 minutes tightening up the other fastenings and replacing the nut-and-bolt combo. No charge. Just a smile and a promise to see me again sometime.

Or Teri. Teri runs a home business as a quilter and does long-arm machine quilting for those of us who struggle with bed-size quilts and are afraid to tackle the actual quilting—or if we’re not afraid, we’re just not strong enough to lift and shift the layers while our home machines do the work. I took Teri a bed-size quilt I’m making for a friend’s retirement, had it all bagged up in two or three bags. Got to her house, a 20-minute drive from mine, and discovered I’d left part of it at home! Besides feeling stupid, I was irritated at myself for causing another trip to deliver what I’d forgotten. But I didn’t let Teri see that. On her own she said, “I’ll pick it up. I’m in your town several times a week for banking and errands. Give me your address.”

Another one is a young woman who remains anonymous to me. She answers the phone in Teri’s city’s library, and gave me the information I needed about a meeting in a friendly, happy, eager-to-help way. I hope I get to meet her someday and thank her for her upbeat telephone voice.

Yesterday I visited with Jan, a friend of, um, several decades who now lives in Florida. She comes north to visit family three or four times a year and always makes time for us to get together. This time we had lunch out and then drove through Chain-O-Lakes State Park to peep at the leaves. Yes, there’s email, snail mail, texting, telephoning . . . but nothing quite like a face-to-face.

Finally, there’s my neighbor across the alley, Peggy, who shares her garden produce with me. She knows I’m a sucker for eggplant, so she brought me three baby eggplants (she didn’t have a very big harvest this year, due to weather weirdness). She told me she likes to put them in pasta with a little olive oil and sprinkle grated cheese on top. I used rice pasta and ate a meal fit for a queen.

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Good people. They’re everywhere. Sometimes you have to look for them. Sometimes they’re right under your nose, so familiar you forget to see them properly.

Good people make life easier, and happier; they lift you up if your mood is down around your ankles; they do something for you at no charge or share their surplus.

I hope you have good people in your life. If you do, celebrate them!