It was a rainy day this morning. People asking if we are ever going to have a summer this year with one woman saying “we only have July and August left. I try to gently remind them that summer doesn’t even begin until June 21^st. The weather does bring lots of conversations and becomes the reason for so many different choices. I just had to get away…it was so cold. We installed central air conditioning… it was so hot. The economy may limit some of our choices now but still, the ever changing and unpredictable weather of New England provides many a reason and/or excuse for some of the choices we make and for many of the conversations we have. Like one of my first conversations with a customer this morning.

She was a young white woman. She and her young daughter walked into the store shortly after we opened. I greeted them both with a good morning. The mom was engaged, up-beat and without a doubt, on a mission. Her young daughter, probably no more than eight or nine years old, was a little slower and looked as if perhaps she was just really waking up...the way a lot of kids look early on a weekend morning. The mother asked if we had any rain gear…specifically ponchos. She went onto explain how they were walking against childhood cancer for Tufts New England Medical Center, which I already knew was also known as Boston Floating Hospital for Children. She introduced me to her daughter and said how she had been fighting cancer for the last five years…that the Tufts New England Medical Center was their hospital and that they wanted to give back.

I knew that feeling well. Both my son and daughter had been patients at what I always called Boston Floating. Remembering my own children, I looked at the little girl and just want to hug her. Sometimes people questioned why not Children’s Hospital…it’s the best they would sometimes say to which I would always respond “not for us”. Floating was a blessing to us. The people there did so much for my children, their father and myself…more than just the medical care that was so crucial to their living, growing and becoming the wonderful adult man and woman they are today. They treated us as a family, taught me how to advocate for my children and walked with us through many a “touch and go” moment. My son who is now 39 and my daughter who is now 34 still, in spite of the medical trauma they experienced, remember the hospital with a fondness.

Now I was on a mission…where were those ponchos. We found them and the woman and daughter bought everyone of them…about 16 in all. They wanted to make sure there were extras in case some of the other walkers didn’t have any. I thanked them for the sale and for their walking and wished them break through of the sun. Shortly after they left a black woman walked in. She too was engaged, up-beat and without a doubt, on a mission. “Do you have any raingear” she asked and I turned to her and asked “Are you walking for Floating today?”. She smiled and said “Yes…I just wanted to pick a few up in case there were some walkers that needed them.” I smiled too and told her that a woman and her daughter from the walk had just bought all we had. We laughed. I thanked her for walking and wished her an early breakthrough of the sun. As she left to walk the seven miles in the rain, my wish for the sun, while nice, wasn’t necessary…the three of them were already brightly shining.