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Bus Story: Let’s Hope for a World Tour

December 2, 2011

Friday morning arrives like a perfect martini, chilled and dry. Except for the shaken part, which is right for martinis and not for morning commutes. In fact, shaken is quite the polarized term, if you think on it. Either something is well served by being shaken, or it’s verrry bad. But I digress. The bus is crowded with all available seats occupied. One special rider joined us as we were about to leave the neighborhoods and head downtown and there was a scramble to give up a seat for her. At first, she seemed like any other older woman of small but round stature. Wearing a smart and very warm-looking ensemble of mostly black wool and heavily brocaded cotton, her head is topped with a black herringbone tam o’shanter with a lovely black, tan and red embroidered band. But it wasn’t her clothes that caused us to jolt to our feet to offer her a seat; her face fairly beams with warmth and caring, and the twinkle in her bright brown eyes, set within a multitude of wrinkles, dances from rider to rider. A young man, whose seat she gratefully accepts, is rewarded with a touch on his shoulder and a quiet “thank you” as she settles into the journey. I am not well versed enough in my Gaelic mythology, but I know the avatar of Kindness when I see her, and it is nice to have her join us on the ole 54 this morning.


From → Bus Stories

One Comment
  1. katherine permalink

    I thought for sure it was Mrs Claus…

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