Your Cookies or Your LIfe

It was a life lesson. After being robbed in Bolivia and having people try to shake me down as posing as national police officers, I am careful...Very careful when using bank machines. My noble spouse usually watches my back until the bills are in my hot little hands, deposited snuggly in my money belt, and crammed down into my nickers. We then hop into a taxi; thus, avoiding a bad guy skating down the street with our hard earned cash.

Well, in Akaro, New Zealand, a small peaceful port town on the South Island I approached the local ATM machine with great trepidation. My spouse was painting and I was all alone. I stuck my card in, extracted the loot and crammed it down my pants. My heart was racing as adrenaline raced through my veins.

I felt the hand on my shoulder and swung around ready to do battle. She looked at me with eyes as blue as robins eggs, and in an innocent ten year old voice which could melt butter said, "Mister would you like to buy some Girl Guide Cookies, we could make you an honorary New Zealander." She won my heart and I bought both the plain and chocolate variety.

We carry all kinds of baggage with us when move about the world. Some of it needs unloading after the shelf life expires. Little lessons teach us when protection is needed and when love is required.