The Kindness of Strangers

The Annual New Jersey Hungarian Festival occurs the furst weekend of June in New Brunswick. As much as I am looking forward to having a little bit of fresh lángos with powdered sugar, I always get worried when I take my family to public events. I already mentioned the whole ordeal concerning "The Secret Language" but sometimes, Nagymama's actions speak louder than her words.

Every time we attend the festival, we always make sure to stop at the Athletic Club around dinner time to sit down and enjoy truckloads of stuffed cabbage, kielbasa, and other Hungarian goodies. We usually all sit down at the long rows of tables while we eat so we could enjoy a free performance from the talented Hungarian Folk dancers. One time, we were so enamored by what was happening on stage that no one noticed when Nagymama wandered away.

It wasn't until I heard the table next to us laughing hysterically that we even noticed that she was gone. Apparently, she quietly strolled over to another table, grabbed a bottle of Hungarian "Bull's Blood" wine from in front of a...
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