Last Friday we made our weekly trek to the local Farmer’s Market, which, I assure you, is in all its’ all treats and glory this time of year. Apples, apple cider, home-grown gourds, pumpkin pies and pumpkin whoopie pies, and caramel apples. Ahh. The apple treat that is deceptively not so good for you – despite the word apple in it.
Hudson, Riley, Anna and I were awaiting Daddy’s return from his favorite stand to buy Amoroso rolls for lunch (a Philly delicacy – true hard and chewy roll that a cheesesteak must be eaten upon)…and we spied the above beauty. We were marveling at it’s gooey goodness– but just window shopping.
You see the pictures, so you know that this is going somewhere good. A lovely elderly lady saw the four of us admiring the treat and felt compelled to buy it for us. She didn’t ask first, she bought it for us and then politely asked if she could gift it to us. At first I refused – I mean, it was the last one. She bought the last one – where would her Friday dessert be had if she passed it to us?
She insisted that I take it for my three children (that must’ve been it, she was overwhelmingly impressed with the 3 children I had with me that were 3, 5, and 6 that were behaving like angels at the moment) and that they enjoy it for lunch. I love moments like that. Moments that give you glimpses of Jesus in other people.
So, THANK YOU to the beautiful grandma at Friday’s market. We enjoyed our caramelly-oreo crumbly-icingy-sprinkly treat. And we’ll pay it forward.