It was forty years ago, nearly to the day. I was hitchhiking on the Romantistrasse--a "blue" highway running North-South connecting small touristy (romantic) towns in Germany. It was a warm, sunny day.

A little Volkswagen passed me by, but I ignored it until I heard a beep beep. It had stopped to give me a ride! I squeezed in next to a young girl (11-12) and her mother. I immediately said "I don't speak Deutsch". She commenced conversing in English! We exchanged information on who we were and what we were doing. She was from Berlin taking her daughter to Rothenburg, a famous little town on the Romantistrasse. Quite frankly, I'd never heard of it.

As luck would have it, this wonderful lady asked me to join them as they walked the streets of this walled "city". She knew all the places to visit. For lunch, we drove a little way out of town and had a picnic--they had plenty of food prepared as if they were expecting a guest! Chicken and German potato salad--the real thing!

We spent several more hours walking around before bidding farewell to each other. The little girl seldom spoke, perhaps because she didn't know English. Her mother wrote me a letter several months later, and I wrote back. That was the end of our friendship.
That day ranks up there as one the best days of my life. I wonder if the girl remembers the day with the American?