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January 13, 2026
Sublime Rambling
Carousel
By Vicki L. George
The Bandera Prophet
Her name is Carousel; and she called me “Mama.”
My husband Bill and I went out to eat for our 60th wedding anniversary. He had chosen Outback because he wanted one of their excellent steaks.
We arrived before the dinner crowd and were seated at a booth. Then she approached our table and introduced herself as Carousel. She was petite and young and Hispanic and, as they say, “Cute as a button.”
After we looked over the menu, we placed our orders. When she asked me what I wanted, she said, “And what can I get you, Mama?”
At first, I was surprised. When she left our table, I realized that calling older women “Mama” was part of her culture. And she said it so sweetly, like she really meant it.
When she came by later to check on us, again she called me Mama, in that sweet and concerned way.
Later, when she brought our check, she inquired about dessert and, when she thanked us for coming, she once more called me Mama.
I was so touched by her calling me Mama so I told her that, even though I’m aware of the culture, I also missed having my kids and grandkids to share our anniversary. So, her calling me Mama just felt so good and right and I loved it.
Of course, she explained that she had her mom and grandmother and too many aunts; so she had grown up calling them all Mama.
Then, when I looked at our check more closely, I saw her name spelled as Carousel. I asked if she really spells her name that way and she said she did. So I asked her if she knew what a carousel was, and she knew.
Then my curiosity got the better of me and I asked how she got that name. She said she was born in San Antonio and, when her mom gave birth to her, they lived on Carousel Street. Her mom liked the name so much that she named her newborn daughter Carousel.
That was a perfect ending to a perfect day.
My husband Bill and I went out to eat for our 60th wedding anniversary. He had chosen Outback because he wanted one of their excellent steaks.
We arrived before the dinner crowd and were seated at a booth. Then she approached our table and introduced herself as Carousel. She was petite and young and Hispanic and, as they say, “Cute as a button.”
After we looked over the menu, we placed our orders. When she asked me what I wanted, she said, “And what can I get you, Mama?”
At first, I was surprised. When she left our table, I realized that calling older women “Mama” was part of her culture. And she said it so sweetly, like she really meant it.
When she came by later to check on us, again she called me Mama, in that sweet and concerned way.
Later, when she brought our check, she inquired about dessert and, when she thanked us for coming, she once more called me Mama.
I was so touched by her calling me Mama so I told her that, even though I’m aware of the culture, I also missed having my kids and grandkids to share our anniversary. So, her calling me Mama just felt so good and right and I loved it.
Of course, she explained that she had her mom and grandmother and too many aunts; so she had grown up calling them all Mama.
Then, when I looked at our check more closely, I saw her name spelled as Carousel. I asked if she really spells her name that way and she said she did. So I asked her if she knew what a carousel was, and she knew.
Then my curiosity got the better of me and I asked how she got that name. She said she was born in San Antonio and, when her mom gave birth to her, they lived on Carousel Street. Her mom liked the name so much that she named her newborn daughter Carousel.
That was a perfect ending to a perfect day.