Through the years in many musings, I wrote about Martha’s Vineyard, describing what makes it feel unique and magical to me. It’s a long-held point of view that is reflected by a recent experience. Allow me to share it with you.

For more than twenty years, my husband and I have vacationed on Martha’s Vineyard. We relax, renew bonds with friends we only see annually on-Island, we dine like gourmands, and enjoy experiences that could only happen in a unique and magical setting like Martha’s Vineyard.

It was another beautiful day on the Vineyard and after brunch at Waterside Cafe in Vineyard Haven, my husband, a dear friend and I began working our way from store to store, from one end of the shopping district back to where we started. It was fun, but for an octogenarian like me, after consuming a large and delicious brunch and then paying homage to shops along Main street, I started feeling a bit tired. I suspect the rest of my group felt similarly but no one echoed the sentiment. I, the group’s driver, announced I would go where I parked the car and return for them.

If you’re a longtime visitor to the Island you discover “secret” parking spots; such was the case this day. I parked in a small lot on a side street, facing the town’s tennis courts — which are presently being refurbished. It is an uphill hike from Main street and so, mentally energized but physically tired, slowly, step by step, I started the trek to where the car was parked.

About a block and a half from my intended destination, a car pulled up beside me and the driver offered me a ride. I declined the offer, thanked the smiling driver and said, “It’s only a short way to my car; thanks, I’ll walk.”

She continued smiling and, gently tapping the car’s door, she repeated, “Get in, I’ll take you.”

I, a cautious, cynical (occasionally) grandmother of five, finally obeyed the stranger’s request and got into the car.

She drove the block and a half to where I parked. As I was exiting, I introduced myself: “I’m Toni; thanks for the ride.”

Still smiling warmly, she responded, “I’m Amy. Chef Amy.”

The one and only Chef Amy was the car’s driver and she had given me a ride. Chef Amy probably intuited I was struggling up the hill so she opened her heart and the car’s door for me, an aging woman, who still believes in the Island’s uniqueness and magical qualities. Hail to the Chef.

Toni Burns lives in White Plains, N.Y.