Half way

I just had a lovely conversation with a young woman of 30 and once again she confirmed for me what I love about their generation. She had beautiful caramel colored skin, a lovely smile and brilliant expressive eyes. I suspect that her family came from the Caribbean although I did not ask. This part of Montréal has a significant demographic from that region.

As I ordered my cappuccino we began to converse as it was quiet and I was the only customer. I suspect that many are running around scrambling with last minute gift purchasing. 

We got to talking about how the world has changed and how her parents' generation (my own) differs from hers. I tell her how I love their freedom to be themselves and ignore what society tells they are obliged to do. 

She gets around to telling me that I should be proud to be a tall woman after I mentioned that during my time it, depending where you were, it would have been cause for remarks and stares. 

As I leave she tells me how glad she was we spoke and we wish each other a Merry Christmas. 

We are open with the world and the world meets us half way.