Anyone can walk by the purple lemonade stand and sit down across from a real grandmother to chit-chat, ask advice, or just vent a little to someone who's seen it all.

The idea was dreamt up by the New York City reporter Mike Matthews, who recommended a female coworker call his grandmother for a talk. The coworker, whom he described as a guarded Brooklyn hipster, admitted it was the "weirdest thing that anyone's ever said," to her.

Nevertheless, she called Matthews' grandmother—95-year-old Eileen Wilkinson, and was so impacted by the connection after separating with her boyfriend of 5 years, that the two had chats every week for years.

The difference that Wilkinson's empathy and years of wisdom made for Matthews' coworker gave him the idea of opening a "Grandma Stand" on the streets of Brooklyn. His nan lived in Washington, so he left a cheap laptop with a video chat open and wrote a sign on the box that anyone who needed a bit of company could sit down and talk.

"I have no idea how many people she talked to through those years, but at least a thousand," Matthews said. "She had never had any hesitancy caring and just being present with whoever sat down on that chair."

Wilkinson passed away at the age of 102, but her legacy at that booth took on a life of its own.

Now in McKinney, Texas, a team of volunteer grandmas rotate counselor roles behind the same style of purple lemonade stand that Matthews first used with his grandmother and laptop.

"I'm officially old now," 71-year-old volunteer grandma Nancy McClendon told "As It Happens" host Nil Köksal. "What's the use of being old if you can't share from your life experiences?"

The Grandma Stand is not Matthews' exclusive copyright, and instead is replicated by others around the US, and may soon jump north to Canada. This spot in McKinney is a holiday-time pop-up, and McClendon was recruited through a local senior center.

On her first 150-minute shift, she spoke with a father of three who wanted parenting advice, a young married woman with a fear about losing connection with her husband over the long term, and a couple struggling with fertility issues.

She admits she didn't have answers for everyone, but it felt good to listen, and felt good for the speaker to know there was someone listening—even if she was a stranger they'd never see again.