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For What It’s Worth by Dr. Melfi , Ph.D.

When I rst arrived in Florida many years ago, I longed for my old home, my old friends, and my home state. I made it a point to refuse to accept that I had been displaced, following my husband’s career to a place I didn’t understand, and didn’t want to. e heat, for one thing, was unbearable, and rather than a rainstorm cooling the air, it simply multiplied the humidity even worse than it was before. e people seemed nice, suspiciously nice, because where I came from, people didn’t speak to people they didn’t know, didn’t greet perfect strangers with a random hello, and certainly didn’t hug each other at any opportunity that came by. I didn’t understand how the sidewalk were conspicuously missing, and most adults and children simply walked in the street. I thought it was unsightly that people kicked their shoes o , at every opportunity, walking barefoot on the lawn. e sun seemed to hand longer in the sky, and daylight was an insu erable nuisance when attempting to put children to bed. en there was island time, as I called it, where no one seemed to care much about being late, and no one was called to task.

en there was the omission of car inspections, and pop-up shops seemingly overnight. e opposite was true as well, as storefronts changed hands in days, and what was once there, was no longer. Celebrating the holidays seemed fake and out of place, with sun streaming in the windows, shining on Christmas balls with careless disregard. ere was no snow, no icicles, and little reason to buy winter coats or boots. People seemed happier, and that was irritating, since I was used to complaining and miserable dispositions. But then something happened. It took several decades, because I refused to admit that this was a beautiful place to live, but eventually, and before I knew it, I had become a part of Florida.

I noticed the magni cent sunsets, the full moon casting itself on the ocean, the cry of seagulls, and the dives of feeding pelicans. I knew how to identify various species of sh, and the names of the beautiful owers that grow happily in almost every part of the landscape. My personality had shed its sarcasm, and in its place, someone much nicer appeared. I cared about others, and the environment, I talked to butter ies and lizards, and I appreciated my good fortune of living in paradise.

For What It’s

Worth, I will always identify myself as a Jersey Girl, but my heart does beat kinder and quieter in Florida. if we could all do one thing, give one dollar, send one prayer, it wouldn’t solve the problems, but it would make a di erence to some child, some family, and most of all, to ourselves. We are innately a kind and generous species, and now is the time to dig deep and do what you can to help.