THE FLOWER GIRL
As I made my rounds yesterday visiting my mom(s) and grammom(s), I was driving downtown and came to a long red light. I was bummed that I didn't make the light, cause I knew it was a longer wait at this stop, but I was so glad I got the red. So glad because I saw a beautiful sight, and just wondered 'what's the story here?'
Let me paint the picture. I saw a little older lady, not very old, perhaps 60 -65 carrying a little flower in a tiny, which almost looked homemade, flower pot. Not to judge a book by it's cover, her attire suggested a very low income, but she had the sweetest most innocent smile I had seen in awhile. She was bundled up though the temp was in the 70's. She moved rapidly slow, almost like Tim Conway's old man skit on the Carol Burnett Show. The touching thing was she would not let anything happen to that flower she was holding so dearly and tenderly.
As I watch her cross the street, looking both ways many times but very slowly, she never lost the that purely simple smile. Halfway across the street, I noticed her eyes closed and she almost giggled, but kept on walking. She wasn't talking to herself, but without a doubt had a story, and probably a good one. Of course, sitting at this light, I watched for it to change colors, but couldn't keep my eyes of this poor, helpless lady with the flower.
What's her story, I pondered? Was that flower given to her by her children or grandchildren? Was it for her mother? If so, was her mother at home, in the hospital, or was she heading towards a cemetary? As she crossed the street, which seemed to take an eternity, these questions and about a dozen more scrambled around in my little head. Boy, am I nosey! Just enjoy the moment, I thought.
Here's the best part of this simple and short story. I don't know why this is so interesting to me, and why it gave me goosebumps, but after she made it across the street, she took a deep breath, smiled wider,cuddled the flower into her heart and proceeded to mosey on down the sidewalk. I must've been in a daze, because I was awakened by the trumpeting sounds of about 6 car horns.
Carpe' Diem!
Comments
Keep the "speculator" on
I heard a song once called "The Speculator" -- the premise is, imagine that there's an instrument on your dashboard that you can turn on to "speculate" about what you're seeing out the window as you drive along. Invariably, three people in a car look at the same scene and out pop three very different stories. As with all storytelling, each "speculation" reveals much more about the teller than it does about the scene!
Great story, Cory -- keep your speculator on!
Wow!
A truy beautiful story, and a blessing to you! Glad you caught it - some of your fellow travelers likely did not. Anne H.
crystal
as if i were there, it's crystal clear to me.
i often wish the world had the simplicity of such people. luckily she has captured hers and someone like her is truly blessed.
I'm an infinite people watcher. When i worked in Atlantic City, i'd watch people on the boardwalk watching, and imagine their stories. I also often woudl imagine there were lines between them....as when you see a husband 10 paces ahead of his wife, or when a group widens for someone to pass, you can almost visualize the strings that tie them to one another. And then i'd imagine what those strings were....were they married? lovers? fighting? unrelated?
maybe the wests were deeper people than we gave them credit for being........
Simply thanks!
I hope you know what a gift you are and how richly you've been blessed! Thanks for the picture! I could feel myself there!
Quite a contrast
Sounds like this was the break in a long week you needed. A moment of joy experienced by you in the time it takes a light to turn from red to green. Whether the flower was a gift to be given or received it sounds like the gift she gave you was a smile and a moment to forget your own troubles.
Very Good Story Cory. Great observation.
Clay hardens by immobility – men's minds by standing pat. Both lose the power to take new impressions. (Pinchot 1910: 138)