Love at First Sight

I love strangers.

They are so non-judgmental.

If they are self-righteous

I shall never know.

If they lean to the left or to the right,

I cannot tell.

They never abandon you

Because they were never attached.

They do not betray you

Or hurt you with unkind or untrue words.

Just a cheery smile and a wave

As they pass by.

It always makes my day.

The Stranger

Just as I was clutching the door to go

in the Women’s Dressing Room at the gym,

this big burly fellow says, “Excuse me, Miss.”

Miss? He didn’t even say Ma’am or Old Lady.

Panic momentarily seized me.

Am I going in the wrong dressing room?

Does he want permission to come in here too?

Did I drop something?

“Do you mind if I say something personal?”

“No.”

“Your hair is so pretty.

It’s just beautiful – wavy.”

Knock me over with a feather.

I had thick hair as a child

But somewhere along the way it got very fine and thin.

I don’t even know when.

“Thank you very much,” I smile appreciatively

as the door to the Women’s Dressing Room closes.

Sometimes strangers say the most startling things.

The Stranger Part II

   When Amy came home, I was telling her this story. "Is it the same guy who told me my hair was pretty when I had it pulled back and braided to go swimming? He said 'Miss' 'Miss' and then told me how nice my hair looks." It had to be the same guy. Does he wish he had gone to beauty school? Does the gym hire him to lift women's spirits? Doesn't he have anything else to do? Is he really trying to be friendly and nice or is he sick? Weird. And now my story is done. Except that I just remembered that I rummaged in the coat closet to find my water shoes before I left and messed my hair. Thinking I was just going to jump into the pool, I didn’t bother to fix it so I’m sure it looked pretty bad.

Part III

   Monday (May 2) at the gym, I watched this burly guy follow a blond woman carrying a child down the hall. I couldn't hear what he said to her, but she was facing me and I heard her say, "You are so nice. Thank you very much."

   Maybe he said something nice about the child, I don't know. Her hair was pulled back tight in a ponytail but maybe he thought it was pretty.

Kind Words

A young fellow crossed under three floating lane dividers at the pool today to talk to me. I thought, “Oh, no, what have we done wrong now?” “I just wanted to tell you,” he began, “that I think it is a wonderful thing that you bring your son to the pool. He does so well. I’ve been coming for a year now and it’s so good to watch him swim.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” I blubber.

“I’ll bet it’s good for you too, isn’t it?” he said in parting.

“Definitely.” I wanted to share with him my poem entitled “I thought I was Teaching my Son” but I just smiled. 

You know what? I love kind people. What does it cost?

A few years ago, a burly tattooed man at the pool visited with us telling us that he took seminary with Eddy.

Upstairs at the machines, a woman comes over and says Hi to Eddy. She said she was his bus driver in elementary school (nearly 40 years ago).  Her name gradually came to me: Barbara Ortega. We used to sit on the guard rail out on Fairfield and wait for the bus. We liked to throw rocks into the hollow while waiting.

On the other hand, I’m in Fine Arts Club with one of his old school teachers and she doesn’t remember him at all. Of course, she doesn’t remember her own kids and she asks me who I am three times while we’re talking and she’s telling me her memory is improving. We were in the Ward with her when we first moved out here in 1969 and I’ve been in club with her a couple of times.

From “I Thought I was Teaching My Son”:

I thought I was teaching

my son about health and exercise

as I took him to the gym,

where I got addicted

to aerobics

and sold on swimming.

Little Acts of Kindness

Something happened to me tonight

That I bet has never happened to you.

Picture the long lines for the Women’s Restroom

At the theater.

Because I waited until the intermission was almost over,

There were only two women in front of me.

Still it was Wait. Wait. Wait.

No one came out.

Finally, the door opened and the next woman went in.

“Is there only one stall?” I asked the women in front of me.

“I don’t understand,” she answered.

“Where are you from?” I inquired.

“Brazil,” she answered,

Then she went into a lengthy treatise,

Most of which I couldn’t comprehend

Except for pieces like “if you talk slowly”.

Eventually a younger woman came over,

Perhaps her daughter.

Maybe she thought she could translate.

Soon the next lady came out

And it was my new friend’s turn.

She gestured for me to go ahead of her.

“Oh, no, no, you’ve been waiting in line.

It’s your turn.”

She refused and sent me in.

“It’s the Brazilian way,” her daughter explained.

Little deeds of kindness

Little words of love,

Make the world as happy

As the heavens above.