Portland Oregon, 1995. I was standing outside of a downtown office building fumbling with my umbrella, scowling because the little latch on the handle wasn't pushing in right and my umbrella was simply flapping there like a wounded bird. The rain had started to plaster my hair against my skin, and my feet hurt from being in heels all day. I was already envisioning that cup of coffee with cream I would have waiting for me at my sister's house, and how good it would feel to peel my nylons off and walk on her carpet with bare feet.

And then a warm, low voice suddenly rose up over the sound of rain on the city street.

"Voluptuous...."

What? I glanced up from my struggle and caught my breath. A man was standing no less than four feet away, dressed in a smart suit. The cobalt blue of his button down shirt looked beautiful against his dark brown skin. He had striking brown-green eyes, and he was looking straight at me.

"P...pardon me?" I said, forgetting my umbrella altogether.

He stepped closer, but there was still space left to dash if needed...that much I could see.

"There's a word called voluptuous, and you....are it."

I could feel my jaw move slightly, my lips trying to form some semblance of a reply... but I was stunned. I was 24 years old, and this was the first time a stranger had walked straight up to me and said anything of the sort. And to my amazement, I felt warmth rush to my cheeks and an instant smile erupt.

"Don't ever believe what they say about stick skinny girls. You just stay voluptuous and beautiful..." he said, tipping his head a little. And then he lowered his gaze toward the ground. Such a tiny gesture, but it said everything it needed to say. He wasn't hitting on me. He wasn't going to push me up against the door and ask my number. He wasn't trying to make me feel uncomfortable. He was simply making my day.

In a time when rail thin figures were all I saw in magazines... when 'beauty' was measured by how many ribs a person could see sticking out from beneath their skin, I found every way to hide my body beneath layers of clothes and baggy shirts. I couldn't open a magazine without feeling the downward spiral of 'I'll never look like that.....'

But in one fell swoop, I suddenly felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. Or at least the most beautiful woman standing in the rain in downtown Portland Oregon.

Before I could speak, he turned around, reaching up to smooth his fingers along the lapel of his long wool coat, and continued on down the street.

I stepped into the middle of the sidewalk, not caring about the rain anymore. I watched him walking away, and finally found my voice.

"Thank you!!! Sir? Sir??? Thank you!"

The sound of traffic on the wet city streets roared on into the afternoon. He disappeared into a crowd, and I'm not certain if he ever heard me. But that one comment made my whole day. Whole month. In fact, it still rings in my ears to this day.

I went home and told my husband what had happened. He just smiled and told me he knew it all along. But sometimes, it takes a word from a stranger... someone who isn't biased... to make you realize it for yourself.

I never looked at random acts of kindness the same way again, and I never hold back on giving a compliment. You never know just how it will shape a person's day... or life, for that matter.

And so, mystery man in Portland - if you are out there... thank you, once again.