I was at the mall when a mother walked by me. She had three little ones circling her, whining, crying, and screaming. The one in the stroller was the loudest. She stopped, leaned over the stroller edge. Her tired stare connected with mine when she cuddled the little one to her chest.
I wiggled my nose, blinked my eyes, and a musician in black performance dress sat at the nearby piano. The acoustics around the small landing aided her classical song and the children were mesmerized. After a moment, the children smiled.
The mother placed her quiet baby back in the stroller and escorted the dancing, twirling, children onward.
I was late in meeting a friend at the coffee house down the street. When I sat at the table, she leaned close to me and said, “See the couple over there at that table for two. I heard the barista wishing them a happy forty-fifth anniversary. They sat down and haven’t said a word to each other since. Could you imagine not having anything to say after so many years?”
I spotted their fingers intertwined. The man’s thumb caressed the lady’s knuckles.
I said, “I hope we are that lucky too.”
At breakfast this morning, there was a group of women who spoke over each other when the waiter approached the table. He turned, a frown formed on his face, and he rushed off like he had caught fire.
To my surprise, the waiter returned with the orders and placed them correctly in front of his customers. They all paused in their yammering to applaud.
Another bright day on the Eastside of Seattle, I ran my family errands. I couldn’t help but notice a number of plaid shirts in the crowds. So many, I wondered, is there a convention giving awards?
I packed my mini with the things I bought at the craft store, my new projects on my mind. I slammed the tailgate, stood straighter, and noticed a woman on the other side of the semi-crowded parking lot dressed in athletic clothes. She had a flushed complexion, a sheer layer of sweat covered her skin. She held her arms straight out in front of her. A gift tower with a tiny teal bow on top sat in her hands. Once out of the parking lot, she began to run, but held the gifts far away from her body.
I wiggled my nose, blinked my eyes, and climbed into my car. I happened to head in the same direction of the runner. When I turned the corner, two children held open packages in their hands, had huge smiles on their faces, and hugged a sweaty woman in their arms.