Don't Run
The rain was in full blast when the bus dropped me off in front of the IMM Building. I was ready to make a dash for the entrance. It wasn't too far off but far enough that I knew I would still get reasonably drenched. But an old lady sitting at the bus stop called my attention and pulled out her umbrella. In a severe voice she told me, "Don't run in the rain!" She stood up and accompanied me to the entrance.
She was a short woman with short, predominately grey hair. Her clothes were dark. I wish I could remember the color of her umbrella. I was too bewildered and too grateful to take in all the details.
Along the way, she spoke to me in broken English: "You don't have to hurry. Look at the road--wet. When I was a girl, I also run in the rain. Don't! Don't run!"
Like the doofus that I am, I couldn't say anything aside from "Thank you!" Even though her umbrella did little to keep me from getting wet (it did keep my head dry though and I'd rathered she didn't get wet in the process of helping me), her action, her words, and her company were and are more than enough.
Human kindness. There's more than enough hope for all of us yet.
She was a short woman with short, predominately grey hair. Her clothes were dark. I wish I could remember the color of her umbrella. I was too bewildered and too grateful to take in all the details.
Along the way, she spoke to me in broken English: "You don't have to hurry. Look at the road--wet. When I was a girl, I also run in the rain. Don't! Don't run!"
Like the doofus that I am, I couldn't say anything aside from "Thank you!" Even though her umbrella did little to keep me from getting wet (it did keep my head dry though and I'd rathered she didn't get wet in the process of helping me), her action, her words, and her company were and are more than enough.
Human kindness. There's more than enough hope for all of us yet.