Street Girl

2004-03-17 - 8:35 a.m.

Okay, I'm at work and can update now.

Last night, I was dreading going to class. The weather was cold and miserable, and I just don't like our teacher much - I'd bet he's a nice guy, but we come from vastly different experiences, and if I have to hear, as a part of his lecture, that he's disappointed in his son for taking a high-6-figure salary instead of finishing university one more time, I'll die inside - but I went to class anyway.

On the way there, a young woman stopped me to ask for change. I knew I didn't have any, but sometimes I check anyway, because if I do have a hidden quarter or two, I'll usually pass it on. While I was digging in my pocket, with snow and cold wind and grey skies all around me, she mumbled, with no sarcasm, "It's a beautiful day."

I looked at her, startled. She was quite young, probably late teens or early twenties, but looked a lot older. She had those sore/rash things that drug addicts get, her skin was pallid, her cheekbones stuck out, and her eyes looked washed out. I think she would have been quite pretty if her life had taken a different turn.

I said something to the effect of, "No, it's not. It's cold and wintery. I want Spring to come."

She shrugged, and we both realized that I didn't have any coin for her. I apologized, and we went our seperate ways.

But while walking away, I started to wonder why I didn't think the day was beautiful, or why she must be daft to think it was. Considering the weather some people have had this year, considering that I was bundled up with a scarf and only had to be outside for twenty minutes at the most, and considering that any other day I actually like snow, I realized that the blustery, chilly weather could actually be nice.

She changed my day, and I really wish I could have given her something in return.

If there's a God (<- obligatory agnostic disclaimer), I think that's how He works...by bringing those moments where someone or something pulls your attention toward the beauty that surrounds us. Those four words from that sickly-looking girl turned my day around, and I'm thankful.

Of course, you'd think I'd like that show, Joan of Arcadia, where the high school student talks with God who takes the form of people around her, like the janitor or a goth kid in the hallways, to tell her what to do...but I don't. I can't watch more than 5 minutes of that show. It's facile.

Cheers,

The Magus

previous - next