@kat_i_am
Lemonade
by kat
“Do you want some lemonade?” the young girl yelled at me as I bike down the opposite side of the street. It was a hot day, and the road I rode had very little shade. As I bike by, I can see that she has a little table set up, a pitcher of lemonade and cups on top of it, her younger brother sitting beside it holding a sign so covered in doodles I can’t even tell what it says.
“Sorry!” I call back. “I don’t have any money with me!” I didn’t stop, so I barely got to see her reaction to my reply. I think it fell, but I couldn't be sure.
When I got to the library, I opened my phone case to take out my library card and check out my books. I found inside a twenty dollar bill. I could use this to buy lemonade, but only if they can break it and make change, I think. As I bike back home, this time on the same side of the road as the girl’s lemonade stand, my mouth waters in anticipation. Lemonade is one of my favorite drinks, has been for a long time. I think back to a school trip that fall, where I bought a 60-ounce jug of lemonade, carried it around with me, and drank it all over the course of a few days. Of course, I shared it with my friends when they asked, but I drank most of it myself.
I was three-quarters of the way home, trying to remember which house it had been. Just as I started to wonder if the girl and her brother had packed up and gone inside, I rounded a corner and there they were! As I slowed my bicycle, I asked them if they could make change for a twenty. Not even hearing me, the girl and her brother told me excitedly that they were giving out free lemonade. Their grandmother had joined them outside in the shade next to the table, and as she poured me a glass, I learned about the lemonade stand. The girl asked me my name, and then started writing on the back of the poster. I caught a glimpse of it- it looked like she was writing my name down on a list, and I smiled. Though I didn’t catch the siblings’ names (they spoke over each other as I asked), I learned that the lemonade stand had been the girl’s idea. They had a lemon tree in the backyard, and so she had decided to make lemonade and give it to people who passed by.
“She did everything by herself,” the grandma told me, obviously proud of her granddaughter. “She picked the lemons, sliced them, juiced them, added the sugar and the water… all by herself!”
“Thank you! You know, lemonade is one of my favorite drinks,” I told the three of them.
“You see?” the grandma said to her grandchildren. “You just made someone very happy, and that’s all that matters.”
As I drank the sweet lemonade from my cup, I learned that even though the lemonade was free, if I wanted to donate a dollar, most of the money would go to charity (the girl and her brother would save a few dollars to get something for themselves from the dollar store). They had made just over thirty dollars so far, but they couldn't break and wouldn’t take my twenty-dollar bill, so the grandmother told the girl “I’ll pay for Katherine here,” and put a dollar in the box.
My lemonade finished, I thanked them and went on my way.
At home, I told my sister of my experience. Only a few minutes later, I grabbed three dollars and my ukulele, planning to go back and give the kids the money, and, if they would let me, play for them and try to attract more people.
Though I couldn't have left the stand more than ten minutes ago, by the time I got back to the house, the kids and their grandma had packed up and gone inside. Disappointed, I turned my bike around and went back home.
This experience stuck with me the rest of the day. I texted a friend about it, I wrote about it, I told the rest of my family about it. Why this story means so much to me, I’m not quite sure. Maybe it’s because I received a random act of kindness from a stranger. Maybe it’s because this little girl was so kind that she just wanted to give free lemonade to people passing by. Maybe it’s because they didn’t ask for money, even though we live in a world where it seems that everything has a price, that there’s no such thing as a free lunch; but if I had been willing and able, they would have taken it, and it would have gone to charity. Maybe it was that the grandmother payed for me, even though there was no price. Maybe it was the ephemerality of the experience, how it lasted only the amount of time it took me to drink six ounces of lemonade.
And so I learned from lemonade that there is still kindness in the world. Sometimes, we don’t even have to look for it, it will just come to us. The unexpected can be sweet. And sometimes, all it takes is for us to pause our busy lives and talk to a stranger to not only benefit the lives of others but our own as well.
