One day I picked up Simone from preschool and her friend, who is white, asked me if I was Simone’s mother.
Simone and the girl had been standing at a gate, where parents pick up their children. The little girl wanted to know if Simone would be leaving for the day.
I answered the little girl’s question. Yes, I am Simone’s mother. Well, that settled it. The little girl turned and said: “Simone, give me a kiss.”
Without hesitation, Simone puckered and planted a kiss right on the girl’s lips.
The show of affection reminded me of an old married couple who don’t part ways until they have kissed each other. And so it was, that day at the preschool, beneath the shade tree and in plain view for all to see, I witnessed a smooch I’ll never forget.
I laughed out loud, as did a group of preschool teachers – black and white – who had been watching from a picnic table.
Neither my color nor Simone’s mattered that day. Simone was simply a friend who needed a proper good-bye – and she got it.