The Girl and The Blind Man

A week ago,my motley group of friends were having our usual array of fast food lunches and a few members of the group had scattered off to say hello to people out side our little circle. Tho they had removed their presence, in true teenage fashion, their junk remained. Backpacks, purses, empty cups, books lay strewn across the floor where we were sitting. This was not seen as odd, as it was assumed everyone would return and pick up their things before leaving.

So it was my dear friend Kayte, the new boy and I sitting among the rubble of adolescent life, Kings of the discard and forgotten. We didn't mind it was warm, and the sunshine was coming through the glass like light in a prism, dancing on the trees and our noses. What did we care of a little congestion? The day was young and we were young. The day was beautiful and so were we. The universe felt as if it were built for the young and indestructible, like us. 

Along came a man with a red and white stripped cane. He could not see the sun dancing in the sky, he couldn't see the laughing young people and he certainly could not see their stuff. The man was blind, and he walked right in to a discarded backpack. I watched in utter horror as he struggled to figure out what had wrapped around his ankle as the bag slipped further around his leg. It must have only been seconds of his struggling with the cane but it felt like years, i couldn't watch him struggle like that. 

"Excuse me sir, i think you've gotten caught up in a back pack, let me help you out," I said reaching to remove the bag. "I am so sorry, I hope I didn't break anything," is all he said, turning to me in earnest, sky blue eyes boring through my soul in concern for a stupid backpack. "No not at all sir." Then he smiled, and carried on maneuvering slowly but surely to a pack bench, where he sat, folded his hands behind his hand, closed his eyes and turned to the sky. He couldn't see it, but i think he could feel it. The same sun dancing on his nose as it was on mine.  

Musings of Wal-Mart

I was pondering today how curious a society is if it is considered bizarre to have basic common courtesy. America is a curious place. I was just the neighborhood Wal-mart buying a gallon of milk and the employees there looked positively glazed over. Every costumer received a half hearted "Have A Nice Day" as they left, and the seemed astounded when some one actually looked them in the eye and gave them a sincere "You Too!" It makes me wonder how many don't even acknowledge those people trying to make a living. 

Later, walking out to my Jeep I was preoccupied with thoughts of the things I wanted to change about my car, thing i wanted to fix, to improve. Parked next to me was a beat up station wagon filled with what appeared to be junk but on closer inspection was the shabby contents of someone's house. A girl not much older than I sat in the passenger seat staring out at the skyline as if it were a road map she couldn't read, a book that held all the secrets that was written in another language. In the back seat another girl lay slumped over on the car sear, ribs protruding in all directions. Their license plate read Washington, but their faces read drug addicts. 

I wonder who it was who sat driver's seat of that car, where they had gone, what they were doing and I wonder who it was in the driver's seat of the lives. Do you imagine as little girls growing up in Washington they imagined when they grew up they'd be living in a car parked in a parking lot in Oklahoma? I hope they are warm tonight.