Sighting

We stood across the table from each other in the Pschorr-Festzelt Bräurosl tent Sunday evening.  You wore a baseball style hat, jeans and a tee-shirt, and I was in a wine colored corduroy dress with a white top underneath.  We were all listening to the music and you held my hand every time I reached over and took yours.  Your hand was warm; you were kind. We never spoke.  I got a sparkler and you didn’t, so we shared.  I am ever grateful for your companionship that evening.  I think of you and pray for you every day.  It would be nice to get your name and keep in touch.