It Takes a Village.

I was shopping at Goodwill. I love this almost as much as I love donating to Goodwill. Favorite pastimes. Or presentimes. Whatever. I love to empty my house of extra, and I love to acquire more at crazy, ridiculous prices.

I walked past this gaggle of women (I wouldn't use that term lightly, but they were indeed a gaggle, giggling their way through the aisles) who were shopping together for their separate vacation wardrobes. They gave each other thumbs up, thumbs down, 'that's too small, my dear,' and 'Oh, is that ever YOU.'

We do that for each other. Not always with those words, though. It varies, generationally. Anyway.

Woman A held up this silky, frilly poncho-of-a-something, and she insisted that her friend, Woman B, must-must-must buy-buy-buy.

Woman B: Are you sure? Don't you want it?

Woman A: Oh, you know I can't wear things like that. But you? Oh, you can. Especially on the beaches of California. Are you kidding? Yes. You must.

Woman B: [Pause. Holds it up to herself. Pause.]

And along comes Tricia, who has never met a stranger, especially one who couldn't use some encouragement and affirmation. With my toddler in my cart, I smiled and said, "I vote yes."

Woman B: Really? Yes?

Tricia: Oh, yes. Especially for beaches in California.

Woman B: (with new confidence and a nod) Yes. Yes. You're right.

Woman A: See? It takes a village.

And so, somewhere, on the beaches of California, Woman B will tell others about this beautiful poncho she found on consignment, and how this charming young woman encouraged her to buy it. Or, she might tell people that I wanted it for myself, and she stole it out from under me.

But either way, she'll feel great when she wears it.

It takes a village.