H-O-W-W-W-D-Y, P-A-A-A-R-D-N-E-R

When I was little, I loved the book Gila Monsters Meet You at the Airport. Even though the book’s theme was supposed to showcase the fallacy of preconceived notions and stereotypes, I must have tuned that out, focusing instead on The West and all its rumored glory.

Even though I was a college student when I first-ever stepped on Texas soil, part of me really did expect cacti and cowboys, ten-gallon hats and armadillos at every turn.

“Dad! Watch out for that armadillo!” I’d shrieked, as we departed from the airport on my maiden voyage toward Denton and the rest of my life.
“That’s a squirrel, Court,” he’d said, in the tonal equivalent of an eye-roll.

Turns out Gila Monsters was pretty spot-on. Texas looked not so very different from Connecticut. Except for the lack of trees and the hills, I suppose. These account for the enormity of the sky, which at first was little overwhelming. I quickly came to appreciate this, though. Storms do not sneak up on you in Texas—you can see them coming well in advance.

The biggest difference I noticed—which still holds true today—is the overall friendliness of the people here. There are nice people everywhere, I know. Jerks, too, if we’re being honest. But in my experience in these last fourteen years, it is the kindness I’ve always appreciated most.

I used to wonder if the warmth of the climate had an impact on the warmth of the culture and community. In Connecticut, so many months of the year are spent bundling up in layers to insulate ourselves from the cold. Do we not also insulate ourselves from one another as we hurry about our day’s business?

With this year’s new opportunity to be out and about during the work-day hours, I’ve been blessed to see (and appreciate!) even more kindness in action in unanticipated capacities and locations.

Several times when cutting it close to pick-up time at school, I’ve been surprised by the intuitive response from the cashiers at the supermarket. I’d already unloaded the cart onto the conveyor belt before realizing that I was now in queue behind a slowpoke. I don’t think my panic had reached my expression yet, but in an instant, another cashier was at my elbow, gathering my items and bringing them over to his lane. I was out of there in less than three minutes. Another time—same supermarket, same situation, different slowpoke ahead of me at checkout—the customer service lady subtly came over to the conveyor belt with her laser-booper and started to scan in my items (and bag them) from my side of the register, returning to her own workstation to finish out the transaction. It was so cool.

You know, I really have seen quite a few armadillos (REAL ONES) through the years, but I’ve seen even more demonstrations of kindness and friendliness.

And I haven’t seen one single gila monster yet.