Years ago, my Mom came to visit us in Texas.
After a few days of showing her around, she asked, “Where are all the cowboys?!” Her comment still brings a smile to my face. I responded, “They are here Mama, just hidden.” She’s watched way too many westerns.
Yesterday morning, a young cowboy was walking in front of me into a restaurant, and I knew what was going to happen as soon as I saw him. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt tucked into his jeans. Yes! In this Texas heat!
He saw me approaching from behind, reached for the door handle of the restaurant, pulled the door open and stood there waiting for me to walk in first. It’s how he was raised.
Standing in line at the restaurant, he stood out, and I could tell the waiting was making him uncomfortable.
There was a young man about his age standing nearby dressed normally. He was also staring at his phone, which I didn’t see the young cowboy with a phone. It was 10:00 am, and he was trying to order lunch. The lady behind the counter modified the menu to make him lunch.
I felt sad for the young cowboy, feeling out of place in Texas of all places! He probably received his first pocket knife at the age of five, and was taught how to use it for work on the farm, and whittling wood for fun. Not for protection.
Maybe he felt like he was standing out in the crowd, but I saw him as standing above it.
Thank you Mama’s for continuing to raise young cowboy’s.
May they always stand out in the crowd.