Even in kindergarten, my pal Karen had a special kind of glow about her: Back when I hadn’t yet learned to smile for the camera—that’s me on the right— she was already beaming at the world.
Over the years, Karen and her family have done countless kind things for us (and for so many others). But the one that stands out for me happened a dozen or so years ago, when she hiked the length of a long, snowbound, country driveway to where my dad waited in his car. In one arm was a sack of pet provisions, in the other, a small rescue kitty—our girl Charlotte.
From the minute she joined my parents’ household, it was clear that Charlotte wasn’t an ordinary cat. But aside from her many talents—her flair for fashion, her fancy dance moves, etc.—her most cherished trait (in real life) is what a devoted companion she was for my mom, and now is for my Dad.
Mom was fond of saying that when Dad walked in the door with Charlotte that first night, kitty shot her a look that seemed to say, “So there you are!” It was as if two old friends had just reconnected. —And all thanks to Karen, who’d gone the extra mile—literally—to connect Charlotte with a home.
Last night, when Blackie realized that Karen’s birthday is TODAY, he knew he must bake a suitably splendid cake. (And just in case, Charlotte cruised by the kitchen on her way to bed, to emphasize that point.)
It took a long night of effort, but in the end, Blackie’s extravagant confection was a winner—even passing muster with our discriminating queen. (Let’s hope it tastes as good as it looks!)
Dear Karen, have a wonderful birthday: We, your fan club, salute and celebrate you!
—And while I‘m at it, here’s to the “Karens” in all of our lives—those friends who go the extra mile for us, knee-deep in snow. Happy Sunday, everyone!