I’ve long forgotten the meal — the fruit and nuts of it, anyway. I know I savored every bite, and even cleaned my plate. It was that good.

But the company? It was even better.

Megan and I jostled through the serving line of Tim’s buffet at Laity Lodge together. We didn’t plan it that way. We just sort of wound up there at the same time. We’d seen each other around — online, and now off line, but for some reason our paths had not yet intersected.

She would change all that.

We reached the door to the dining room at about the same time, and Megan yielded. Being from South Dakota, I yielded back. That’s what we do at uncontrolled intersections — we keep waving the other on until someone gives in.

But she’s from Texas. She won’t play the perpetual yield game. She looked up at me and said, “Go sit down.” She can be matter-of-fact like that. “I don’t know you yet, so I’m going to sit with you today.”

And that was that.

I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone so quickly in all my life.

That may not have been the day that Tim served pho. But I remember it as the best meal I had all weekend.

Megan brings to every encounter the gift of her presence. Her attention. Her questions. Her careful listening. Her tender heart.

::

I may be in big trouble before the day is through. (I’ll take a couple of friends down with me.) But I’m a big believer that forgiveness is easier to ask than permission. So, Megan, forgive me for this. But word on the street is it’s your birthday this weekend.

Permit the rest of us to celebrate a bit over you.

(Find my friend Megan – writer, tea drinker, failed liturgical dancer – at MeganWillome.com.)