(Photo taken by DC McGannon)

Over the weekend, I got to attend the Kansas Authors Pavillion at the Great Plains Renaissance Festival to peddle books.

And I got the privilege of meeting several authors I had never met before, as well as see some familiar faces. Saturday was great fun. Lots of chatting, everyone really spending the day just getting to know each other. There were four females, Dawn Judd, Suzanne, Ashley Berger, and myself, and five male authors: Todd Hunter, Lyndon Perry, Davis, Michael and DC McGannon.

We had everything covered. We had romance, sci-fi/fantasy, zombies, monsters under the bed, paranormal  and even a little non-fiction. It was a great group.

Well, except for the lovely Kansas wind and cold that decided to blow through. I spent a good portion of my Saturday holding back the tent flaps so they didn’t slap on me. Or popping decongestants since even with my allergy meds, I could practically feel the sinus infection coming on. (Which it did, oh, in all it’s glory too, by Monday)

But Sunday is when my trials began. Sunday morning I hopped out of bed and headed to the fair. Armed with an extra blanket–it was terribly cold for April–and more layers, I unloaded from the car.

And that’s when it happened.

My back went “POP.”

I went “OH SHIT.” Sat down my boxes, and I stood there for a second, trying to decide, what do I do? Do I pack back up, go home? I could hardly bend over, the pain so sharp.

I didn’t want to go home, I mean I’d come up there, I’d committed to being there… But, well, I hurt! And I don’t do pain well. (Yep, I’m a big baby.)

I decided, well, this was the Renaissance Fair. There should be plenty of big, strong, men in tights that could carry my stuff for me. Sure enough, with the help of one of the organizers, we found one, (though I think he was probably fourteen at the most) to carry my stuff to the tent. Which was good enough, since none of the tables were set up.

So I proceeded, very, very slowly, to shuffle a few things around at the tent, while waiting for the others to show up. When they started arriving, I told everyone that my back was hurting, and that I couldn’t move the tables like I wanted to. Even setting up my own table was a trial, but I got some help with that, thank you to Dawn’s daughters who were there and helped me with it, I appreciated it so much.

Throughout the day, when the wind would pop up (every five minutes, or so it seemed) and blow my stuff off the table, someone else would jump up and get it for me.

And when I went to leave for the evening, three people immediately helped me carry all my stuff to the car.

I was so moved by this. Granted, I did ask for help, but the kindness that was exhibited to me all day long touched me very deeply.

I have always been very independent, always done stuff for myself all the time, never really asking for help unless I really felt backed against a wall. It frustrates me to have to depend on other people to do things for me, because I know I’m impatient, and I want it done, when I want it done.

So to have people–people I barely knew, even–to help me out, pressed on my heart. It reminded me, that even in this world where so much horrible things go on (see the Boston Marathon Bombing, which was last week), that there still are good people out there, helping others.

And how sometimes the littlest things really can mean the world to someone.

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