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Bus Story: Expectations

August 8, 2018

Her entrance onto the bus might have been missed, so quiet and careful she was in her approach. I noticed her after she had settled into a seat in the front, facing sideways. Likely in her late seventies, her hair, tucked into a small straw hat, has streaks of grey mixed in with the dark curls. Her arthritic hands hold tightly to a serviceable wooden cane, well used by the looks of the worn handle. Her eyes, dark and bright, fairly glitter in the morning light.

And all else recedes when she smiles.

It is not a big smile. It is the smile of child’s delight at the licks of a puppy on their face. It is the smile of a dad watching his children sleeping. It is both of the smiles of an older couple, silently knowing their bond. It is the smile of a mom watching her daughter prepare for her wedding day.

And in the radiance of it, I feel a peace settle over me that is often missing in these challenging days.

We expect her to show up half-naked and surrounded by sea foam but Aphrodite is with  us in varied and often surprising guises. Just like love.

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From → Bus Stories

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