Connect with the Sweetness of Others

I love local fairs, with funky smells, flashing lights, and odd performers. As I waited on shaky metal seats for an equine show last month, I yearned for a low-paying job I once had as a reporter. This time, I didn’t use my words, but I used my psychic ability to delve into the life of this little family who traveled with props, horses, and wow outfits. 

I actually become each person in the show, like when I worked on murder cases and had to almost become the murderer and the victim. This fair experience didn’t make me feel sick though. The equine family made me happy.
 
The dad played ringleader. Short, with a prominent belly and pants that needed a wash, he had a warm and corny manner that roped me in. My favorite was his sweet ten-year-old blond daughter who rode in on a beautiful pinto and held an American flag. As we stood at attention to a tinny version of the Star-Spangled Banner, my heart soared with love for the good old USA. Later, the girl’s dad mentioned how pretty she was, and I saw her sweet, shy smile. She clearly loved her part to play.
 
Mom was lithe, thin and strong, the real ringleader in the family, the nurturer, the glue. Junior, a perfect miniature of dad, was about eight. An infectious imp, he seemed to be a true man as he hung upside down on the side of a cantering Percheron. A little man, unlike the big man, with no money worries and little fear.
 
The hot night had a cool breeze. Old guys in t-shirts sang country songs in the bandshell behind us. Big eyed children stared. The audience acted as one as we oohed and admired. It felt like a big circle of love.
 
Little things become big memories. We don’t have to talk to connect with the sweetness of others. We only need to experience.