That Moment When

 While I was out on my morning run, I came across this scene: A young man pulled over to the curb, got out of his car, and approached an older woman sitting on the concrete base of a filling station sign. I couldn't hear what they were saying because, as is my custom, I was listening to music through my earbuds. 

They young man stopped abruptly, returning to the driver's side door, opened it and came back out carrying a book. As I passed by it became apparent that the book was a Bible, and the gentleman was about to witness or preach at this elderly woman. 

This took place on Christmas Eve, and I did not stick around to see what happened next since I had a day full of holiday preparations of my own ahead of me. 

My mind was not finished with the tableau, however. I wondered if I had stumbled into one man's mission to save just one more soul before Christmas. Was this an isolated incident, or had he been working tirelessly the entire year and saw this as one last chance for salvation for his heavenly work? 

And what of the elderly woman? Was there an assumption made that her posture and the shopping bag wedged between her feet signified a need to be saved? Was this an interruption to her day or a bit of welcome relief for her empty life? 

It made me consider all the chance interactions that we all avoid each day in a life full of getting somewhere in a hurry. The Bible might not be necessary, but it does provide an opening. I confess that here in Oakland, more often than not, I am zipping through my day avoiding eye contact with the expressed purpose of express. No stopping. No idle chitchat. No interactions with strangers if it can possibly be avoided. 

Some of this agoraphobia is no doubt a result of being the son of a man who seemed to be friends with every living soul with whom he came in contact. I followed up that relationship by marrying a woman to whom I refer as Polly Polka Dot, America's Friend. My guess is that my father or my wife would have had a much different reaction to the scene I encountered this past Christmas Eve. 

I did what I do in my universe: I smuggled that moment home and stuck it in a blog.