She sits under the shade of an umbrella watching people pass by. It has been awhile since I have seen her. Yet in the passing days, I haven’t stopped wondering – who is she; what is her story.
We all have them, don’t we? Stories that is. Some are filled with abundance. Some are full of joy and laughter. If you were lucky, you had a good measure of both. There are those, however, whose stories carry more sadness and pain than we can ever guess to imagine.
Those stories aren’t easy to read. They lie hidden behind the eyes. We don’t get access to them with formalities and acquaintance. The pages only turn with grace, love, compassion and time. You earn the right to know the story. Not by what you give but by what you are.
Real.
Today, her story unfolded just a bit. In the warmth of July afternoon we shared time, a cool drink and a few words. Today, I know her name and now she knows mine.
Joan has a story.
And so do I.
© A Sacred Longing 2009-2010
I am joining in at Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky. Join us in the celebration of the moments that make up our lives.
