I remember once when I was a kid, going to the barber shop with Daddy. It was our regular spot, The City Barber Shop in Liberty, TX. On this particular day the place was busy, so we had a seat in the row of chairs along the wall opposite the three barber's chairs. Customers continued to come in more quickly than they went out, and before long every seat was taken; even the shoeshine chair was occupied and people began to stand.
About that time, through the glass door, we could see a lady approaching. Holding her hands and walking behind her as they crossed the street were at least three little boys. Looking back now, they remind me of my sons, well-behaved, but little boys nonetheless. They were bouncy, noisy; their jeans were grass-stained, and their faces were sticky. It warms the heart to see happy little boys who are "all boy," as they say. But, to a mother out and about with them on a hot Saturday morning, trying to get some errands run, it can be a bit taxing. As she came to the door, Daddy leaned down to my ear and asked, "Do you see that lady with all those kids?" I nodded. "Let's give them our seats," he said. So, we stood. She came to the door (being held open by another customer) a little breathlessly, smiled at all of us and guided each of her little ones through the door. Daddy, still standing with me near our vacant chairs, offered her the seats, then we moved over against the side wall of the barber shop. She thanked us and sat down, taking her purse from her shoulder and resting it on her lap along with the littlest of her boys, while the other two took the other seat. And I still remember what she did once they got settled. She breathed, and she smiled.
I got my haircut that day and we went on with our lives, but I remember that day because it brought me a little closer to being a man. We stood there against the side wall of the barber shop, inconspicuously, just being cool (like men), having done the right thing, and having done it together.