at the gas station

The morning after the election of Obama, I drove to Bozeman in a rain/sleet/slush nightmare. I laughed at how little the horrible conditions seemed to affect my mood this day. I stopped to get gas and the woman at the next pump had an Obama sticker on her car too. She pointed at mine as we stood in the rain and said, "It's a beautiful morning, ain't it?"

Today, one week later, I stopped to get gas at the same station. There was a four-year-old cherubim inside the door when I went in to pay. As she left with her dad, she held up a package of candy and said to me, "These are good -- sour and sweet at the same time!" The cashier said, "They're my neighbors. I watched her learn to ride a bike this summer -- no training wheels." I remembered my father standing behind me to steady the bike and then pushing me off. I remembered the smart of skinned knees. I remembered exhilaration.