Just the other day there was a persistent knock on our front door and a neighbor, who has two young girls, was there holding out a plate of pink cupcakes. It was Valentine’s Day and school was canceled because of yet another snowstorm so she was hoping to give them away to her neighbors.
My husband took two in and when I came downstairs and I saw these two mounds of sweet perfection I nearly wept. I wish I was dramatizing this but I am not. There, right in front of me were two vanilla (my absolute favorite flavor) with pink icing and little white mounds of frosting on top cupcakes. Shown to the right. I get happy just looking at the photo I took of the cupcake, yum.
I dreamed about them for the rest of the day, my saliva glands in overdrive, thinking about my pink cupcake, when I should have it, where I should have it but knowing for sure it would need an icy cold glass of milk to go with it. This was serious and I wasn’t going to muck it up for anything.
Sweets are very important to me and these, like angels from Heaven, gifts bestowed unto me, meant so much. There have been so many rough days behind us and I fear an equal amount of rough days ahead of us. These cupcakes were a respite from all that was bad and scary and unknown.
The randomness of a relative stranger, walking down the street in the snow to share her cupcakes with her neighbors because she didn’t want to waste them was such a loving and kind thing.
Pink cupcakes. A random act of kindness. I will pay it forward…
Dedicated to A, J, and B