“Mom, I told you I really did not want to do this.” Liz stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms folded across her chest and a 16-year-old pout on her face.

“Well, sorry, but I signed us up and it’s only for one afternoon. It won’t kill you to do something nice for this group of elderly and forego yet another Saturday afternoon at the mall. Get your coat and help me with the food.”

Annie’s women’s club had agreed to go to the local nursing home and bring treats for the residents once a month, and she had decided when she signed up to add Liz’s name as a helper. The teenager was becoming much too self absorbed and Annie was not entirely comfortable with the group of girls she was hanging out with. It seemed like all they were interested in were selfies, make-up and “likes” on social media. Like it or not, Liz was going with her and it might do her good to talk to a group of elderly people and do something nice for someone else for a change.

The nursing home was only a couple of miles outside of the town, and Liz hadn’t said a word to Annie on the drive over. She still had her arms crossed over her chest and made it very clear she was angry. Annie pulled into the parking lot and turned off the motor and then turned to Liz.

“Listen to me, Liz, and listen good. These men and women are old, they are stuck in this place mostly because of age related issues, and snap out of it. I don’t care if you are upset with me. Fine. But do not take it out on the people inside this place. We are going to spend a couple of hours of our lives bringing them homemade brownies and talking with them and if I catch you sulking in a corner and acting like a spoiled brat, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Liz signed, and muttered “Fine”, unbuckling her seat belt and getting out. Annie did her own internal sigh and they unloaded the plastic bins of brownies and headed in. They found the common area where there was an assortment of men and women already seated in comfortable seats and some in wheel chairs. When they walked in, all heads turned to them, and smiled.

“You must be Annie and Liz. I’m Corinne Downing, the social director, and we’re so glad you made time for us today. Just set your things over there on the table. Edna and Cora, my committee members, have offered to serve the refreshments so you can visit with our residents. Just pick a group to sit with. They’re all very good at getting conversations going.” She chuckled and went over to help put the brownies on platters and started filing cups with coffee and tea.

I put my hand on Liz’s arm and led her over to a group of ladies who were seated around a small table chatting amiably. When we walked up, they all smiled and I leaned over and whispered to Liz, “Just be nice,” and went off to another group of men and women across the room from her. I said a silent prayer that Liz wouldn’t go into her stone statue mode, but refused to worry about it.

Once I sat down, the group invited me into their conversation which centered around current events and then moved off into a funny, insightful discussion of a current best seller that half the group loved and the other half hated. I had actually read the book and was pretty neutral about it and soon we were all chatting like we had known each other for ages. I glanced over at Liz a couple of times and while she wasn’t saying much, she wasn’t sitting with arms crossed and a bored expression, so I let it be.

The social committee came around with drinks and brownies at some point, and I got so involved in conversation, I found the time slipping away. These elderly residents were very different than what I had envisioned, and I shot another look over at Liz. This time she was leaning forward with her elbows on the table and seemed to be talking to the ladies who were nodding and smiling. Thank god, I thought to myself, and then went back to enjoying my own group.

Time went quickly and I was startled when I looked at my watch and realized we had spent even longer than our slotted two hours. Liz was still talking to the ladies at her table, and I excused myself and walked over. We needed to pack up and get on home. I walked up to Liz and put my hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, sweetie. We need to get on home and leave these ladies in peace.” I smiled and Liz pushed back her chair and stood up. All of the women at the table smiled at her and one of them laid her hand on Liz’s and squeezed it. That was a good sign, I thought. She must have been okay.

We loaded up the car and as we pulled onto the highway Liz said, “Thanks, Mom.”

“Thanks? Really?”

She chuckled. “That was way different than I thought. Mrs. Lawrence, the lady with the blue sweater? She used to be a makeup artist for television. And Mrs. Dawson worked at Rich’s Department Store as a fashion coordinator for years before they went out of business. They were really interesting, talking about how fashion had changed over the ages. They were really funny when they got into the weird stuff of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s. And then they got off on telling stories. That other lady, Mrs. Thomas? She was an actual hippie and a groupie for The Grateful Dead!”

I laughed. “You have got to be kidding me!”

“Nope.” She paused. “They asked me to come back. They said they miss having young people around and hearing about all the things young girls are into nowadays. They asked me about selfies and stuff and….well…could we do this again? I mean, if you don’t want to, maybe I could come back on Saturdays or Sundays and help them understand about social media and all that. They really want to learn.”

“I think that’s an amazing idea, Liz.” I turned and glanced at her. “Thanks for coming. I know you didn’t want to but you did it anyway.”

“It was way different than I thought.”

We were silent for the rest of the way home, but Liz followed through on her idea to go back and over the next year she went almost every other weekend. She even talked it up to her girlfriends and before I knew it, she had several of them making cookies in my kitchen to take to the home and going with Liz to talk to the group.

Life has a way of creating the most unlikely friendships.