It’s hard for me to put into words the exact feelings I have for the place I consider to be a huge part of my growing up. Lange’s Little Store and Delicatessen, the small, simply furnished family-orientated deli that my family has frequented since the very beginning.

I take pride in the fact that I am a second generation Lange’s-goer. My dad grew up in Chappaqua and his family used to take out from there when they were younger. I’ve been going for as long as I can remember.

If you aren’t the kind of person who likes to run into everyone you know on the weekend, I wouldn’t recommend going to the Little Store at lunch time on any given Saturday or Sunday.

I however, live for the social scene. And although my dad doesn’t like to admit it, I know it’s his claim to fame. It’s actually quite annoying - the fact that I can’t go into that place with my dad without running into someone from his childhood. An old friend, an old coach, a father of an old friend. You name it, we see it.

We get it. My dad’s kind of cool. Whatever.

But the one person I never tire of seeing is the legend himself. The man behind it all. The one and only, Mr. Lange.

Sweet. Funny. Caring. Kind. If there was a Mad Libs page for this guy, only those kinds of adjectives would fill the page. I have never met someone like him. I think of him and I see a man with a big smile with his arms open wide.

When my family is there eating, he walks up the stairs and joins us. We bond over our love for Cape Cod and dachshunds. In high school, he would always ask about my soccer games and my sister’s basketball games. He also gives great advice.

Today he told me that we learn something new everyday. Something we’ve all heard before, but for some reason coming from him, it sounded different. He told me that he still learns something new everyday.

Lange’s is a place, much like the Harry Potter haven on Newbury Street, that many people find comfort in. The hot plates and breakfast sandwiches too.

When my grandpa died, he was there for my family. My parents opened the garage door at my grandma’s house a couple of days later to find platters of food atop of my grandpa’s car. No note. No ringing the doorbell. No nothing.

When I didn’t show up one Saturday with my dad because I was home sick, he noticed and sent my dad home with a large container of chicken noodle soup for me.

And when our town experienced a tragic loss two summers ago, Lange’s seemed to be a place of comfort for all. After the funeral, my sister and I felt that we needed a Lange’s sandwich to make us feel better. I guess it was a common thought. We saw many of the same faces there eating sandwiches that we had just seen an hour before sitting in the pews. Including members of the Lange family.

In my eyes, it’s the staple social hub of Chappaqua and a place that embodies what it means to be a community.

I felt a sense of pride as a high school freshman having just made the varsity soccer team, walking into Lange’s and seeing my face on the varsity poster hanging up on the wall. I then felt a sense of pride as a sophomore, junior and senior going in and hanging up the poster myself. I felt a sense of pride whenever I was introduced to someone as Gary Klein’s daughter while waiting in line for my sandwich. And I felt a sense of pride today when I gave Mr. Lange a hug goodbye and he said, “aw my buddy,” as he patted my back.

The people that I see in Lange’s have changed over the years.

I see younger families come in after AYSO soccer games on Saturdays and think of my younger self. I see the returners year after year and think of how Lange’s has been the go-to lunch for me and my cousins whenever we all ate at Grandma’s. Turkey, coleslaw, Russian on Rye bread. The Klein sandwich.

The one thing that I missed when I went to college: Lange’s. I was back three weeks after I left, sitting in the dining room with my parents. Mr. Lange asked why I was back so soon. My response?

“I needed my Lange’s fix.”

Although the people, decor, my order and myself may change. Two things never do: Mr. Lange and my beverage selection.

I always get a Snapple. Which means I always get a Snapple fact. Mr. Lange was right. I learn something new every time I walk into Lange’s Little Store and Delicatessen.

Today’s fact: “Real Fact” #845: a lemon contains more sugar than a strawberry.