GAIL WHITE Kindness and other lessons of the lemonade stand

God bless everyone who has ever stopped at a lemonade stand!
I believe there is a special place in heaven for people who have paid hot, sweaty and most likely dirty children they do not know for a drink they do not want.
Children selling lemonade may be the most pitifully endearing sight on the face of the earth.
Every summer, the three families of children that make up our small neighborhood determine to strike it rich in the lemonade business.
They drag the child-size picnic table out to the road.
They make a big, unreadable sign.
Never having fresh lemons, they mix a powder brand with water and shake.
Then, they wait.
Living on a country road where the speed limit is supposed to be 35 but is seldom obeyed, the wait can be very long.
Baseball games and squirt-gun fights erupt during the wait.
This makes the lemonade stand workers thirsty. So, they drink the lemonade.
One hot, summer day, three gallons of lemonade disappeared before a customer was served.
Sales tactics
Being entrepreneurs, the neighborhood clan is always coming up with new ways to serve the public.
One year, along with the lemonade, they sold "mud balls" and "Indian feathers." Signs were made, and a display of these products was laid next to the lemonade.
They never sold a mud ball or a feather. If I recall correctly, it was a very slow lemonade day. The two product lines just didn't mesh.
Another year, they decided to sell candy bars for a dollar with a free glass of lemonade. This concept went like gangbusters! They sold 36 candy bars.
(I had been away this day and couldn't believe all they had sold. My husband explained that there had been several friends who had stopped. I suspect a neighborhood mom had been on the phone!)
Unfortunately, the candy bars were for a fund-raising effort, and they each cost a dollar. Success had eluded their grasp again.
Friday night entertainment
Recently, one warm Friday evening, the neighborhood gang set up shop again.
They pulled the picnic table out to the road, made their unreadable sign and stirred up some Kool-Aid. (I wasn't ready for lemonade season yet!)
Then they waited.
I sat on the front porch watching their excitement rise at the sight of a car on the horizon and fall as the car drove on by.
So pitiful and yet ...
I stepped into the house to refresh my drink. I looked out the window, and all five boys were going crazy in the yard.
Grant had his hands up in the air. Phillip was jumping up and down. Caleb was holding his stomach. Andrew was giving David a high five.
"What happened?" I asked.
"He gave us two dollars!" one yelled.
"He didn't even want a drink!" another said.
Apparently, 3-year-old David had been crawling around on the picnic table, and he fell off as this car drove by.
The man turned around and came back.
"He said it was great Friday night entertainment!" the boys informed me.
That man has no idea the joy his two dollars provided five little boys.
Good Samaritans
Later that evening, another customer stopped and paid 50 cents for his 25-cent drink of warm Kool-Aid.
Thanks to these Samaritans, each child made 50 cents that evening, which ended up in the gum-ball machines on their next trip to the grocery store.
I believe the boys know that their lemonade is truly nothing to stop for. I think they understand that there is a pity factor involved with every customer.
I believe they also know that every person who stops to buy their stirred-up powder mix in a cup is a kind, generous, caring individual who took the time to make them feel special.
They need to know there are people like that.
It may be one of the best lessons they will ever learn for 25 cents.
gwhite@vindy.com