"Nah," I said, "it's only misting."
So we trekked from home and walked around town in the quiet, gray veil of haze. As we turned for home, the mist became a drizzle, and then a downpour.
"We won't melt," my wife said. She was letting me off the hook for not bringing the umbrella.
Just then, an approaching truck slowed and stopped in the road adjacent to us.
"Here you go!" the driver said, as he poked a big red umbrella out of the passenger window.
I took it and asked if he knew where we lived.
"Nope," was his reply as he accelerated away.
We walked home under that umbrella feeling pretty darned lucky to live in a small town like Bluffton, where you never know who might "pay it forward" with a good deed to a stranger.
To the man with the caring spontaneity, thank you, and please contact me so that I can return that big red umbrella.
Kelly L. Graham