Today I experienced what is commonly called a nor'easter. Poseidon graciously sent us strong, gusty winds and a hard, cold rain to send us to Nantucket this afternoon. The seas were quite choppy, but the ferry brought us to land faithfully. Despite traveling through Plymouth Plantation and the Mayflower II, all I could think about on the travel over here had nothing to do with literature sadly. Instead, my thoughts settled onto a sweet, walking older man in downtown Salem. As my companion and I meandered through narrow streets and shops, a Vietnam veteran walked up behind us. He quietly followed us down the street even though we played the slow-walking, picture-taking, completely out-of-place roles of tourists. As we rounded a corner, we stopped to determine which way to turn. He stepped between us and despite never having met us before, he asked if he could be of assistance to us. We smiled and thanked him, reassured him we were not lost, simply resting, and talked for a few minutes.

As we stepped off the ferry and set foot on a not-so-dry island, we desperately looked for a cab. We enjoyed no success for five or so minutes, but suddenly a van pulled to the curb and motioned for us to pile in; she was going our way. As we got settled, the driver stayed outside in the dreary, cold, harsh wind and rain to call the remaining group another cab.

So, as I sit here and contemplate these small acts of kindness, my fast thoughts are drawn to literature. As readers, we are trained to look to our books for examples of how we can make situations and lives around us better. Today, for the first time in a long time, it feels as if life itself is finally emulating my literature. Bravo New England! Bravo!