One night last week when I was on my way home after Phonathon, I stopped at White Hen to pick up some milk. As I was walking towards the refrigerator cases, a little old lady came over to me, put her hand on my arm, smiled, and said with an unidentifiable accent, "You go to Northwestern?"

When I told her yes, her face lit up. "Oh, that's good! It's a very good school. My grandchildren went there-- very good school. What do you study?"

History and political science, I said. "Oh, that's nice, very nice," she said, bobbing her grey head up and down. "Northwestern, it'll help you get a job." (Britt, internally: I certainly hope so, but I'm not so confident. Britt, externally: smiles and nods.) "One of my grandchildren, he's a lawyer. And the other, an artist, she's still there."

I continued to smile and nod. She kept going. "You have a couple more years left, huh?"

"Next year's my last one."

"Ohhh," she said significantly. "So you have to go out there in the world soon."

"Yeah, it's pretty scary," I said. (Thanks for reminding me.)

"Listen," she said seriously, gripping my arm tighter. "Don't you go getting married right away. Live your own life, have a good time. You can wait for that."

I blinked. "Thanks, that's good advice," I said finally. (Because, you know, I'm really on the verge of getting engaged.)

She stared at me for a moment. "You're a good girl," she told me. "Don't mind old folks who like to have someone to talk to."

"I don't, I don't," I said, and I meant it. "I've enjoyed talking to you."

She beamed. I finally got around to asking her where she was from, and she answered, "Yugoslavia." My mind of course translated this immediately into "the former Yugoslavia," and having met several people from the countries of the former Yugoslavia earlier this summer, I was quite tempted to ask, "Where?" But I wasn't sure if that would be a sensitive subject, and besides, it was 9:30 by this point and I hadn't been home since the morning and I could see the conversation going for another 10 minutes. So it was my turn to smile and say, "That's nice."

And after it all, I decided that the line at the checkout counter was too long, and I didn't really need milk that night, and so I headed for the exit and waved to the little old woman on my way out  ¶ 11:12 AM