Tumbalina gets a prize

Although I managed to walk three miles for charity yesterday without incident, later in the day I was not so sure-footed when trying to put one foot in front of the other in the short distance from my parked car to the front doors of my neighborhood grocery store. To put it lightly, I ate it. Bad. My foot met with a crack in the pavement and launched me forward and down. All the way down, hands scraping against the concrete, my hip, one knee and my arm slamming against the pavement, car keys sent flying across the parking lot, purse contents scattered everywhere. My lipstick rolling past me at eye level.

A young couple and a man helped me out. The man helped me stand up and asked me if I was okay, if my ankle was okay and if my arm was okay. Although my entire body was hurting and throbbing, I assured him that I was fine. The young couple retrieved my purse contents and handed them back to me. I thanked each of them for stopping to help me out, put the stuff in my purse, dusted myself off, assured them that I was okay, and started my way again towards the grocery store.

Walking towards me was a man carrying a dozen long-stem roses. He stopped when he got near me, pulled a single rose from the bunch, held it out to me and said, I think you could use this today.

How nice was that?