When I was a little girl, my mother read me the grim story of Hansel and Gretel written by brothers of the same name, except theirs had an extra “m,” because there were two of them. She read me that story several times in order to warn me not to wander off or talk to strangers.

Today, I do tend to wander about, but never “off.”  However, talking to strangers is one of my favorite activities, since they are often a source for humorous material. Also, I remember that The Lone Ranger was a stranger who used to ride into town when no one else had a good story to tell. Of course, I am rather selective about the people with whom I engage in conversation, and judiciously avoid old crones who live in sugar candy cottages in the middle of a scary forest.

People are only strangers until you talk to them. My mother-in-law had a friend who sat next to a young woman at O’Hare Airport in Chicago. While waiting for their plane, they began to chat, and my mother-in-law’s friend took a liking to the personable young woman. As, she prepared to board the plane, she said to her new friend, “My son lives in Chicago. Would it be okay, if I gave him your telephone number?” “Sure,” said the young woman, and my mother-in-law’s friend turned a stranger into her daughter-in-law, and they resumed their conversation for 40 more years.

I used to volunteer for a worthy organization, and my duties included sitting at the front desk, greeting people, and entering data on a computer. One day, a man came into the office. He was early for his appointment. As he sat down, he said, “How’s that computer working out for you?” “It’s great!” I responded, “When it works. When it doesn’t work, it’s not so great.”

At that, this stranger proceeded to relate a story, which I am happy to share with you now:

He said, “I have a friend, who had a problem with her computer, so she telephoned for technical help. When the computer technician started to explain how my friend should repair the problem, she didn’t understand his instructions at all, so she said, “Wait a minute. My five-year-old son is really good with computers. Let me put him on the phone with you”---which she promptly did.

The five year-old easily understood what the instructor was telling him, and followed his directions step by step. The little fellow had no problem at all, until the technician said, “Now, press the Command Key with your right hand.” “Okay! Okay! Okay!” said the child, and then he shouted---“Mommy, Mommy, which one’s my right hand?”

I don’t think my stranger was the Lone Ranger, but he sure rode into town with a good story.

Esther Blumenfeld (Hi-yo Silver Away!)