Last night, my sweet friend Jody Bergsma and I went to see Sex and the City II. We got somewhat dressed up, snuck exotic snacks into the theater and giggled about how much fun 2 hours of brainless entertainment would be. Despite having 88% cocao, organic, fair-trade chocolate secreted in our bags, there is some brain chemistry that shouts “I MUST HAVE JUNK FOOD!” when heading into a theater. Jody succumbed and purchased and entire carton of Dibs. If you haven’t had Dibs, I would recommend not ever starting. Like heroin, they are addicting at first bite. Jody, being a good friend (similar to Lucifer and Jesus in the Desert), tried to entice me into having just one. Having weaned myself off of those diabolical treats once in my past, I wasn’t about to start. Plus, despite the treadmill desk and bread being back in my life, I still have the metabolism of a 78 year old and gain weight just looking. So, I declined. Jody has stronger will-power than me though and only needed a few Dibs to satisfy her craving. When I didn’t take her offer to share, turned around to the entire theater and shouted “Hey! Anyone want to share these with me?” Before long, the carton of Dibs was making it back, row after row, with people in each row taking just one Dibs and passing the sweet goodness along.
Two things happened: 1. You could hear the delight and merriment as the Dibs made it to the next row, the burble of happy talking and 2. As we heard the merriment spread, Jody and I started grinning like fools. I excitedly exclaimed to her, “You’re spreading Happy Pixie-Dibs Dust all over the theater!” Â (Not my most intelligent comment ever but it described the situation perfectly.) We both were reminded that sharing feels good.
Then we settled in to watch the previews. But, a funny thing happened. We heard rustling many many rows back and the same phrase being repeated over and over again, drawing closer to our row, “Give the Popcorn to the BonBon Lady“. And, finally, a nice little ‘to go’ container of Popcorn arrived at our seat. We heard people in the rows behind us sharing their popcorn with multiple rows, “Here, want some popcorn?” An hour into the movie, the process repeated itself and we found ourselves with another offering of popcorn.
Jody’s simple gift of sharing with strangers transformed an entire side of the theater into giving, sharing people. And for just those three hours, our sense of community was deepened and broadened through her act of giving. And, as cheesy at is sounds, I’m going to look for opportunities to spread Happy Pixie-Dib Dust around more often.
