Sunday I played a farmer's market in small community nestled high in the mountains. The first of the peaches and cherries were shown and the town folks came in droves.Between songs I saw a woman making her way towards me. Her face was bright and her eyes told me she had a message to deliver.Over time I've learned to recognize when a messenger approaches.So I paused before launching into the next song. She drew close to my side like she had a secret in her mouth then offered "When my father was alive he used to tell me..."Always pay the musician."I grinned and returned with..."How fortunate for me." We talked a bit more about how those people in our lives who though no longer with us still live on through the memory of things they have said to us. "I can recall the sound of his voice through those words "she added. With that she laid a buck in my open guitar case , wished me well and disappeared into the crowd. It's curious that just prior to her arrival I had been pondering what motivates a passing person to tip the minstrels .On a different sort gratuity, I have been amazed on occasion that there are "divine tips","pennies from heaven"or better yet"imparted wisdom" inserted into the context of the most unlikely of conversations.I also question myself just how receptive I may or may not be to the things of the spirit.Do I really have ears to hear and eyes to see?