“A Stranger Is Just a Friend You Haven’t Met”

I’m a friend collector. Any day I make a new friend is a good day.

 

Yesterday, I was working at my “second office,” Y-Not-Stop in Alexandria. 

 

I call it “Little Buccee’s.”

 

Strong WiFi, hot coffee, clean restrooms, and a good corner cubbyhole table to write.

 

That’s hard to beat.

 

When I take a bathroom break, I usually carry my laptop with me.

 

But not always.  

 

If some trusty-looking soul is sitting nearby, I’ll say, “Do you mind watching my stuff?”

 

Such was the case on this day.

 

An older sweet lady, munching down on a good BLT, sat at a nearby table.

 

“Ma’am, do you mind watching my laptop ‘til I’m back?”

 

She nodded and smiled.

 

As I passed, I said, “Ma’am, you look like you could fight off any thief.”

 

We both smiled.

 

I was reminded of how I love Southern women.

 

When I returned, I had a gift for her. 

 

We Southerners are that way.  If I help you, I can usually count on a return warm hug or a fresh casserole. 

 

That’s just the way we are in the Pineywoods.

 

We like to help others. Nothing expected but “Thank you.”

 

We also like to show appreciation with something tangible.

 

Like that casserole or a Ziploc bag of hot chocolate chip cookies.

 

I’m not a cook. I’m a writer.

 

So, my gift to my laptop-bodyguard is a book.

 

A copy of my favorite short story collection, Where I Come From.

 

I’ve written sixteen books over the space of twenty-five years, and dare say I’ve given away as many as I’ve sold.

 

That makes me a winner in both cases.

 

Giving is such a privilege, especially when it’s something handmade like a book, a dish, or a wood duck whistle carved by a friend.

 

I hand my new friend her book. She grips it firmly, still not sure what to make of me and my gift.

 

Her caretaker daughter, back to me, is busy on the phone. She turns and sees her mother holding a book.

 

She hangs up. “That’s a Curt Iles book.” 

 

She eyes me. “Are you Curt Iles?”

 

“The one and only.”

 

I know from her voice that she, like me, is from the Piney Woods.

 

Folks at the Alexandria Rotary probably don’t know who I am, but My People do.

 

My People. That’s Louisiana Piney Woods People. They’re the finest people in the world. They’ll do anything for you, and you can depend on them to do what they say and stand with you.

 

Like guarding a laptop while eating a BLT.

 

I learn the name of my new friend.

 

Lois. That’s a fine classic name. Anyone I’ve ever met named Lois was nice.

 

It’s easy to tell Mrs. Lois. You don’t get her lifetime smile without being nice.

 

The three of us: Mrs. Lois, her daughter, and me, begin the rural practice I’ve honed all of my life.

 

We begin comparing notes.

 

They’re from SW Rapides Parish, and I’m from nearby Beauregard. As  Southerners do, the three of us start naming names and connecting dots.

 

It’s called “Raking up kin.”

 

If you take enough time to listen, you’ll find someone or something in common.

 

I sign Mrs. Lois’ book, “To my new friend and personal guard, Mrs. Lois Rollins. Y-Not-Stop. Tuesday, October 28, 2025.”

 

Mrs. Lois, book in hand, waves as she leaves.

 

She’s happy. She has a new book.

 

I’m happy. I’ve made a new friend.

 

That sounds like a win-win.

 

As my wise Mom has told me for six decades, “Curt, you can’t have too many friends.”

 

As usual, Momma is right.

 

Yes, it’s true. A stranger is just a friend you haven’t met.

 

There’s always more at The Creek. www.creekbank.net 

Curt has two new books on Amazon:  A warm, memorable story entitled One Night In Winterset and the re-release of our children’s book, Uncle Sam: A Horse’s Tale. Uncle Sam shares the story about the origin of the famous Fort Polk Wild Horses.