Linda

I don't know Linda's last name. In fact, I don't know much about Linda except that she had to take off work for a couple of weeks a while back when her aunt died someplace far away like Oregon or something. The poster for her deli on the bottom floor of the building usually yielded a picture of a heart or a coffee mug listing the daily specials which included things like chocolate pie or some kind of hearty casserole. But this time, instead of the usual greeting, the sign, held up on flimsy wooden stilts put out and put up by Charles the building security guard, alerted us that Linda would be absent for an extended period of time. She apologizes for the inconvenience. Until then I hadn't given Linda a second thought. I'd occassionally visit her deli for a can of Coke or a granola bar. She always said "bless your heart" as I was paying. I found, in Linda's absence, that I began to miss that. Since she's been back I've begun to visit Linda more often. Each time, I find, she always makes me feel good. She always greets me with a smile - a genuine smile - she really seems so pleased to see me. Even if she's not, she has that infectious good mood that some people just have. Now, me, I'm usually not a people liker. In fact, you might say I'm a misanthrope. But I honestly cannot help leaving Linda's deli without a smile on my face.