Regardless if it is a very general statement as a dreamer I like taking long walks. To spruce it up I do have other interests than walking along the beach. Recently I have been walking with no destination, just thinking. I think this is one of those times where restlessness takes over your body and leads into questioning if happiness of what it was defined is comparable to what I define it as now and presents a different task in achieving it. So many miles in my mind or by foot in search for what? This may have been what my blog has been searching for the past few months. What am I doing with my life to make it better than the day I had yesterday?
A couple days ago in my economics class I found myself doodling a tree with vivid leaves which were made of swirls and cosmic thoughts. The tree rooted itself deeply enough to continue off page. The picture, for you artsy people, is a resemblance of the way we all dream. The outside of us seems beautiful and pulled together but when we look underneath our roots continue searching within us to find the best way to survive.
Now, I did not realize this exact importance of the painting until today when I looked back at my "notes" during class. Going back to my recent love of walks by myself, maybe that means that these roots searching and spreading out above the grass trying to answer the simple question, what am I doing with my life?
These roots can also represent the way we expose ourselves in revelation to the world around us. Do our roots only show up to people that are close to us or to people from somewhat of a distance as well? The answer to that question is irrelevant in this post. What is relevant is that such roots have been spread out for a while and do not pose the picture of myself in the right order. Many people complain that people do not see what they wish the world saw them as, and honestly, we have no control over that matter of nature.
When you look at nature more closely the roots don't have any sort of control over whether or not they are unraveled to the people around them. This is such life where we cannot anticipate who were are going to touch in our lives, connections to people and things continue even when we think we're not participating. This is because truths of others and ideas are slowly revealed to us. No answer has one dynamic which calls patience from the tree to let roots pop out of the ground where they may and let what is transparent and not transparent work itself all out for the better by the end of our time on this earth.So at this time let go of what is tightening those roots, move around rocks and let yourself bloom in each season of challenge. Our roots will go up and down but as long as we grow in some way we can know we are living it right; unraveling is inevitable.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
Bourgeois Mentality is First Class Mentality
Today's format is a little different from previous posts, below is a sample of an essay I just wrote for my Technology and the City class. The assignment was to describe a place, and a place can be anything and anywhere besides the Gold Coast of Rogers Park. So today I went on an adventure with a friend to discover a new place and what makes it special to the community. The place is the Bourgeois Pig in Lincoln Park, for clarification of the title Bourgeois in french means middle class mentality and my experience there was nothing but a first class experience....
Rustic and vacant on the outside the Bourgeois Pig sits nestled in between two brick buildings just one block off of the Fullerton redline stop. There are a few bikes locked up outside with people who look like Eskimos. Yes it’s the Chicago winter and the warm light that the restaurant gave off lured me in removing my concern of being cold.
This space is anything but your typical lounge couch café. Walking in made you think that you were a part of an Owen Wilson adventure while in Paris, the style created a good sense of olden times with delicate touches of historic appreciation with paintings of Lincoln, Washington and all of their buddies. Instead of my moment being a midnight in Paris it was Twilight in Chicago when the mystic elements of work and relaxation seem to weld together for that short period of time. Leaving the B Pig to combine the art of lounging crowds and quick hustle and bustle to go cups I got to see this quaint place living in two different worlds almost as if it were a place that lived on the border of a time zone.
When I walked up to the counter I explained to the woman that I was a first timer and that I had no idea about the place until 20 minutes ago. She offered to create me her favorite concoction, the Jamaican Latte, one of their signature drinks. Warmly complemented I bought a large chocolate chip cookie putting at rest the late afternoon hunger that had recently come over me outside. I waited for the drink, slowly spinning around soaking in all of the wall art. With different historical moments all documented in vintage advertisements and books dating back to an unknown time I felt like I was inside my Junior Year history teacher’s mind.
Abruptly my train of thought was stopped when a man slowly sipping his coffee cup said, “This is my favorite place in Chicago.” Friendly atmosphere can be determined in so many ways but the easiest way to tell the character of a restaurant is the people that attend regularly. We talked roughly about the place and how the architecture within sets a mood that presents peace, intellectuality and happiness. Conversations like this can really make you reflect on how life’s simple happiness of people interacting the way they should, friendly. Lincoln Park definitely gets misinterpreted; here it gleams with class and pleasure of company in this quaint café.
After grabbing my Jamaican latte from the counter I found a carpeted staircase to lead me to the only available seating. Like a house, tables were immersed within what should be bedrooms or dining rooms and created a more privatized setting for customers. Each doorway trimmed with dark wood lead me to the next, eventually settling to a table with a large window overlooking the neighborhood behind. I loved this place; it had a character of bringing back the classics with classic values. I think that is what makes it so beautiful with just the right lighting I can see everything in life that I want right in front of me and that is what can make a certain place so special.
Currently I’m sitting next to two college students on a coffee date, a professor with the typical 70s mustache and in the next room can faintly hear the conversation of two work friends. I have had other visitor’s lurk by but these seem to describe this place eloquently, they are the heartbeat of the moment and keep it alive in today’s time in the attempt to bring us back in remembrance of what was before this moment. As their conversations loomed and my imagination wandered the one painting in our room sucked me in like a Mary Poppins chalk drawing.
The painting is of a large square in the city with people conversing, it’s interesting because the bottom half of the painting cuts off a clear view of what the scene actually looks like fully. Where most of these people’s feet are located a blur is made leaving it to look like a huge reflection or puddle. This puddle I feel makes the piece incomplete but tied together all at once creates a better understanding of the space that I had been taking up. Not everything is clear the first time you see it, just like a blurry puddle, but if you wait to see it settle you can make more sense of what it contains. That is my exact plan with the Bourgeois pig, we have developed a conversation that has not yet been finished but unfortunately had to end due to my engagements in other spaces of Chicago. Next time I hope to find out the mystery that this place has created with its love for smooth jazz and inclusion of tiki beads in doorways. Next time the painting won’t be blurry and I will find out if that the guy next to me finished his project on time.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The Poetry Man: Life isn't about the words you write, it's how you say them
Crazy and charming the poetry man moves from el car to el car preaching his love for the art of performance and poetry, trying to bring the arts of Chicago to the passive existence which the daily commuters take a place as momentarily after moving through the sliding doors. Tonight was a classic lesson of how sometimes just the right words can rejuvenate yourself to become inspired and hopeful of what tomorrow has to bring or what the past can reveal of sudden reason. My story begins at the Wilson stop off of the Red Line on a school supply trip to Target with floor friends.
With the snow falling lightly at the el stop we listened to the hum of the heat lamps as we shared stories of our childhood winters and any other topic to keep the conversation moving. Close off was another Loyola student who happened to know one of my friends and with quick introduction he seamed right into the conversation we were having before. Silencing our laughter the el came clumsily into the station and we all boarded the luxuriantly empty car with enough seats for all.
The train began to move and conversation progressed through the entire car. Every walk of life was there: college students (us), working people from the loop, and families. Making a mental note while scanning around I had noticed that there was not one visible crazy person, very odd. Suddenly, the car door behind us slid open and a large burly man came stumbling in talking to himself under his breath. Guess I spoke too soon. Unlike most of his "el kind" he had a whole introduction of what he was doing. The rest of the el decided to toon him out as he began to sing his toon, my friends and I were intrigued the moment he said he was the poetry man in his first line. He gave so many promises to us el riders, he took us on a journey of past, present and future through our minds most delicate spot for memory. He talked about love.
This was not the cute sappy way, but love and what it really means . With pause and reflection through his choice of words to create the picture in our minds of what our past and present was and what we want for the future in any of the relationships we have, to be. Unfortunately I could not recite the poem for you, that memory is fade like a wave... it comes inside crashing when strong tides bring it back but out within the same time like an undercurrent tide pulling it to secure hiding. However we passed him some change and he gave us a poem to read on our way off, a starving artist has guts that not many people have continuing their dream no matter what the push is. It's an inspiration within itself.
Smiles lit up all of our faces as his words effected us to see life in a different perspective just in that serendipitous moment. Most of all he taught us the power of words and how its not what you say, its how you say it. I'm not saying that I'm going to sing every statement I make, but like him I'm to use poise in thought to create food for thought. Much more than a microwaveable lean cuisine, like a three course meal which has the complexity to keep ideas stronger as the bond of conversation ignites around this deep thought. Thank you to the Poetry Man for teaching with his talents, some people are too scared to show those talents in thought of failure; instead of thinking he just does it.
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Story Game
Caffeine has many effects on people, some it keeps them awake, others irritability and then there's the occasional unaffected. Me? I just fall under the category of extremely awake after two tea bags in one cup of tea with the only option of narcolepsy during my final exam tomorrow. Tonight is my last night of the semester and it's kind of sad to think that I won't be able to see the lonely people walk the intersection of Winthrop and Sheridan and play the story game as I try to drift to sleep. Maybe since this is my last night here, I will share my story game with my readers.
Don't know what the story game is? Well, it's this game you play when you're bored, waiting in line, sitting on a park bench...anywhere! You watch the person's interactions as they are in your passing and without interacting with them you begin to know them by creating a destination they are off to, or what the worried look on their face is for. I love this game for one reason, everyone has a different story written on them so it is always a different game.
Tonight's game is the 8-ride driver that just drove past ever so quickly. His name is Charlie but no one ever askes him his name so he remains unknown to most Loyola students, but tonight is his night that he will become famous on the campus of Loyola University Chicago. You see, he spends most of his nights picking up drunk students from parties and bringing them to the safety of their front step. Charlie hates his job, especially when they get in the car and either puke on the floor where he had just vaccuumed this afternoon or they obnoxiously struggle with their seatbelt for five minutes, making him late for his next stop.
By the break of dawn Charlie is exhausted and retreats back to his fifth floor walk up in Rogers Park to his family of 3, Denise his wife and three year old son, Benjamin. This family has it tough with barely getting by, along with balancing a work schedule that allows each parent to work full time hours and be by Benjamins side. Some would think this would be an impossible way of life, but for Charlie it is enough when he still sees Benjamins smile light up as they play with his only toy, a dull wooden train. A lot can be revived in someone from a child's smile and I think it may be the sign of hope it gives us to keep on moving along like many of our childhood moral teachings of, "I think I can, I think I can".
So Charlie continues to drive the 8-ride van around Loyola Chicago and dosn't groan about his job in picking up drunk kids, he smiles because he knows that he can support the happiness of his son, by being there for him in the daytime. I wonder if the simplicity in Benjamin's happiness of playing with one old toy with his dad could sustain us students if we tried living a more simplistic way to happiness. Maybe the people we run into on a day to day basis have alot more to them then just their job of getting us here to there? Or serving us a coffee in the morning to our exact order.
Say hi to Charlie, and ask him how Benjamin is. Afterall, it is through the small interactions in our day of being aknowledeged that makes us simply happy, so go on out and make another person - simply happy.
Don't know what the story game is? Well, it's this game you play when you're bored, waiting in line, sitting on a park bench...anywhere! You watch the person's interactions as they are in your passing and without interacting with them you begin to know them by creating a destination they are off to, or what the worried look on their face is for. I love this game for one reason, everyone has a different story written on them so it is always a different game.
Tonight's game is the 8-ride driver that just drove past ever so quickly. His name is Charlie but no one ever askes him his name so he remains unknown to most Loyola students, but tonight is his night that he will become famous on the campus of Loyola University Chicago. You see, he spends most of his nights picking up drunk students from parties and bringing them to the safety of their front step. Charlie hates his job, especially when they get in the car and either puke on the floor where he had just vaccuumed this afternoon or they obnoxiously struggle with their seatbelt for five minutes, making him late for his next stop.
By the break of dawn Charlie is exhausted and retreats back to his fifth floor walk up in Rogers Park to his family of 3, Denise his wife and three year old son, Benjamin. This family has it tough with barely getting by, along with balancing a work schedule that allows each parent to work full time hours and be by Benjamins side. Some would think this would be an impossible way of life, but for Charlie it is enough when he still sees Benjamins smile light up as they play with his only toy, a dull wooden train. A lot can be revived in someone from a child's smile and I think it may be the sign of hope it gives us to keep on moving along like many of our childhood moral teachings of, "I think I can, I think I can".
So Charlie continues to drive the 8-ride van around Loyola Chicago and dosn't groan about his job in picking up drunk kids, he smiles because he knows that he can support the happiness of his son, by being there for him in the daytime. I wonder if the simplicity in Benjamin's happiness of playing with one old toy with his dad could sustain us students if we tried living a more simplistic way to happiness. Maybe the people we run into on a day to day basis have alot more to them then just their job of getting us here to there? Or serving us a coffee in the morning to our exact order.
Say hi to Charlie, and ask him how Benjamin is. Afterall, it is through the small interactions in our day of being aknowledeged that makes us simply happy, so go on out and make another person - simply happy.
Monday, November 21, 2011
What To Be Thankful For
Thanksgiving time rolls around every year and people begin to think of things that matter most to them, what they are thankful for. Commonly people go back to their family and friends as the one thing they are thankful for and the priceless moments they have spent with them. Unfortunately we cannot see everyone on Thanksgiving in order to tell these people in our lives that we are thankful for them. So instead of giving these important people a shout out before digging into turkey, I think this Thanksgiving should be different. We should really think about what we're thankful for and tell that person, they may not realize how important they really are in your life until you tell them. Think of this blogpost as the beginning of a Thanksgiving dinner table, I will say what I'm thankful for first and then you follow by stating what you're thankful for by telling these people that come to mind.
As cliche as it is, I'm thankful for my family. I'm so glad I can call my Dad for a quick laugh or a word of advice cause he somehow knows the answer to every problem. Running through Michael's lines for his play on the phone could not make me any more happier on a Sunday afternoon. I love that Joe and I still inbox each other at least twice a week catching up and laughing more than we ever have. I'm thankful that Teddy understands how to use Skype, even though he cant talk back him raising his ears, sniffing the screen and wagging his tail is all I need to see in order to know that he misses me as much as I miss him. And everyday I realize more and more that I could not live without my mom. Even if its a call home to tell her a stupid story, she listens with eager ears to be in tune even thousands of miles away. They are not just family, they are my best friends and the ones I turn to at the end of the day with knowledge they will be their conditionless. Happy Thanksgiving guys, you are irreplaceable.
I am thankful for tradition, and not just any tradition. Pie Night, the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving my entire maternal extended family gathers together to make pies for the dessert for the next day. Sharing family recipe secrets, catching up with family and meeting all the new people that have become a part of our tradition by invitation makes this tradition a one of a kind. No one will ever understand why Pie Night truly brings a smile to the Greene family. Martina Greene, my grandmother, the creator of pie night has supplied us with something to hold onto even if she wasn't there to bring everyone together. It's been a fast eight years and its still unbelievable that shes not there to direct instructions in the kitchen, but then we realize shes still there. We can feel her in the warmth of the smiles, laughter, and focus of pie making. Never will we let this tradition go, the only thing that can happen to it is to grow as we grow. Happy Thanksgiving, fam!
I'm thankful for my high school education. As I look back on my last few months of high school I remember wishing to leave and move on with my life in a new city with new people. Now that I am there I have noticed how much Spellman was a part of my life, how much it changed me and taught me to be a better person. There is no other place where you can combine dancing and going to church or have fun traditions with learning. As goofy as it sounds, I enjoyed high school. There were definitely bumps in the road but I enjoyed it for what it was - awkward ages and the bliss of ignorance. And in the broad view of things, Spellman is my second family still and always. They were there for the ups when I was there to succeed and the downs in the worries of family sickness. Completely supportive in every way I will never once say high school was something I want to forget about. I grew up and became an adult there. Sharing a Thanksgiving football game with a family is going to be a gift, to spend time with the family I love- Happy Thanksgiving Spellman.
I am thankful for my Loyola community. This place has made me feel home in every aspect one could for 1,000 miles away from your true family. Shout outs begin to my Learning Community members we spend everyday with each other. Some of my most memorable moments are the conversations in all of your doorways, talking about the finer things of life like Spongebob or common interests in baking for example. We are not just a community, we are family. You can tell this right when you get off the elevator when members are just sitting in the lounge enjoying each others company or writing papers till the crack of dawn in the hallway with each other. Each moment I spend with you guys is an adventure whether we go somewhere or not its regardless since you guys always take me somewhere and that is up, never feeling down. Second shout out goes to the rest of the people I have met here. You are all interesting and have a spot in my heart, some of you I may not remember your name but then again you've probably nicknamed me Boston girl (its fine I make nicknames too!) We may have had laughs, exchange of good conversation or went on an adventure but all moments are dear and the reason I have come to love Chicago much more than I thought I would. Thanks for making me feel at home even if Chicago isn't your home either.
The list goes on and on of what I am thankful for this year, maybe it's being away from what you're used to for 3 months that makes you realize the most important things of life. To keep it simple and sweet, I am thankful for the people that have made a difference in my life enough to make me want to change and always try to be a better person than yesterday. Happy Thanksgiving to anyone who read this, now go out and tell people that you're thankful for them!
As cliche as it is, I'm thankful for my family. I'm so glad I can call my Dad for a quick laugh or a word of advice cause he somehow knows the answer to every problem. Running through Michael's lines for his play on the phone could not make me any more happier on a Sunday afternoon. I love that Joe and I still inbox each other at least twice a week catching up and laughing more than we ever have. I'm thankful that Teddy understands how to use Skype, even though he cant talk back him raising his ears, sniffing the screen and wagging his tail is all I need to see in order to know that he misses me as much as I miss him. And everyday I realize more and more that I could not live without my mom. Even if its a call home to tell her a stupid story, she listens with eager ears to be in tune even thousands of miles away. They are not just family, they are my best friends and the ones I turn to at the end of the day with knowledge they will be their conditionless. Happy Thanksgiving guys, you are irreplaceable.
I am thankful for tradition, and not just any tradition. Pie Night, the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving my entire maternal extended family gathers together to make pies for the dessert for the next day. Sharing family recipe secrets, catching up with family and meeting all the new people that have become a part of our tradition by invitation makes this tradition a one of a kind. No one will ever understand why Pie Night truly brings a smile to the Greene family. Martina Greene, my grandmother, the creator of pie night has supplied us with something to hold onto even if she wasn't there to bring everyone together. It's been a fast eight years and its still unbelievable that shes not there to direct instructions in the kitchen, but then we realize shes still there. We can feel her in the warmth of the smiles, laughter, and focus of pie making. Never will we let this tradition go, the only thing that can happen to it is to grow as we grow. Happy Thanksgiving, fam!
I'm thankful for my high school education. As I look back on my last few months of high school I remember wishing to leave and move on with my life in a new city with new people. Now that I am there I have noticed how much Spellman was a part of my life, how much it changed me and taught me to be a better person. There is no other place where you can combine dancing and going to church or have fun traditions with learning. As goofy as it sounds, I enjoyed high school. There were definitely bumps in the road but I enjoyed it for what it was - awkward ages and the bliss of ignorance. And in the broad view of things, Spellman is my second family still and always. They were there for the ups when I was there to succeed and the downs in the worries of family sickness. Completely supportive in every way I will never once say high school was something I want to forget about. I grew up and became an adult there. Sharing a Thanksgiving football game with a family is going to be a gift, to spend time with the family I love- Happy Thanksgiving Spellman.
I am thankful for my Loyola community. This place has made me feel home in every aspect one could for 1,000 miles away from your true family. Shout outs begin to my Learning Community members we spend everyday with each other. Some of my most memorable moments are the conversations in all of your doorways, talking about the finer things of life like Spongebob or common interests in baking for example. We are not just a community, we are family. You can tell this right when you get off the elevator when members are just sitting in the lounge enjoying each others company or writing papers till the crack of dawn in the hallway with each other. Each moment I spend with you guys is an adventure whether we go somewhere or not its regardless since you guys always take me somewhere and that is up, never feeling down. Second shout out goes to the rest of the people I have met here. You are all interesting and have a spot in my heart, some of you I may not remember your name but then again you've probably nicknamed me Boston girl (its fine I make nicknames too!) We may have had laughs, exchange of good conversation or went on an adventure but all moments are dear and the reason I have come to love Chicago much more than I thought I would. Thanks for making me feel at home even if Chicago isn't your home either.
The list goes on and on of what I am thankful for this year, maybe it's being away from what you're used to for 3 months that makes you realize the most important things of life. To keep it simple and sweet, I am thankful for the people that have made a difference in my life enough to make me want to change and always try to be a better person than yesterday. Happy Thanksgiving to anyone who read this, now go out and tell people that you're thankful for them!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
The Moment When You Were Born
Is it weird that I remember peoples Facebook statuses if they really speak to me? Yes? Whatever. So my RA, Sebastian, had posted this quote the other day on his status and it read something along the lines of, "There are two important times in your life, the moment you born and the moment you realize why you were born." Over the past week I have been making alot of time for this spare time writing blog and can't seem to put it down.
It's almost like the world has too many stories and characters to let it all trickle away into faded memory rather than writing it down. Everyone has a story to tell and this is mine, still in the process but its a form of figuring out my next chapter. It really makes me wonder if I should drop the whole become an environmental layer and save the planet from the human consumption rates and just write.
This could be my moment, when I realize that my hands were meant to type what I see good in the world, not petitions about what I see bad in the world. Though I wouldn't be paid as much, I would feel rich in the comfort that I can be my absolute self. I guess this is what growing up is, weighing options of what you want and what you can sacrifice for your future.
It's almost like the world has too many stories and characters to let it all trickle away into faded memory rather than writing it down. Everyone has a story to tell and this is mine, still in the process but its a form of figuring out my next chapter. It really makes me wonder if I should drop the whole become an environmental layer and save the planet from the human consumption rates and just write.
This could be my moment, when I realize that my hands were meant to type what I see good in the world, not petitions about what I see bad in the world. Though I wouldn't be paid as much, I would feel rich in the comfort that I can be my absolute self. I guess this is what growing up is, weighing options of what you want and what you can sacrifice for your future.
The Mysterious Woman in the Red Pea Coat
Imagine having the worst day you could ever have. Your coffee spills on your hand, you realize Spanish 103 was not something you should've tested into and your communication class has yet again to be something you find ridiculously hard to keep up with. Its your typical Thursday at Loyola and I'm sitting in line waiting for the shuttle to take me home and away from the world for 20 minutes with my iPod....never mind it just died.
Continuing my conversation with my friend Jeff as I put away my iPod and we wait together I try to forget about the stress of this day and ask God for just some answer to help me get through this day. I don't know where I'm going, or why I'm going this way...give me a freaking answer. Within a moment a small frail woman in a red pea coat came down the corridor with a stack of small white pieces of paper. She began handing them out to each person in line and sometimes saying hello to familiar faces. This woman was cute in the way that she would smile as if she had given you the world and all its answers within that one grin.
When the woman with the red pea coat had reached my friend and I she handed me a paper, smiled, and continued to walk through the line. The whole line began to draw quiet and like a row of dominos, lifted their heads after reading and awe. Quickly I scanned the paper that read:
"Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with , what seizes your imagination will affect everything.
It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."
- attributed to Pedro Arrupe, S.J., from 1965-1983, Superior General of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits)
Who was that woman with the red peacoat? I may never get to meet her. The lesson of the importance a stranger can make in your life continues, she may never know that she brought the answer to my problems that day but she felt the need to share her love for the community. By supplying the bus line with a reflective thought she has made a small difference in the world.
Continuing my conversation with my friend Jeff as I put away my iPod and we wait together I try to forget about the stress of this day and ask God for just some answer to help me get through this day. I don't know where I'm going, or why I'm going this way...give me a freaking answer. Within a moment a small frail woman in a red pea coat came down the corridor with a stack of small white pieces of paper. She began handing them out to each person in line and sometimes saying hello to familiar faces. This woman was cute in the way that she would smile as if she had given you the world and all its answers within that one grin.
When the woman with the red pea coat had reached my friend and I she handed me a paper, smiled, and continued to walk through the line. The whole line began to draw quiet and like a row of dominos, lifted their heads after reading and awe. Quickly I scanned the paper that read:
"Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with , what seizes your imagination will affect everything.
It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."
- attributed to Pedro Arrupe, S.J., from 1965-1983, Superior General of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits)
Who was that woman with the red peacoat? I may never get to meet her. The lesson of the importance a stranger can make in your life continues, she may never know that she brought the answer to my problems that day but she felt the need to share her love for the community. By supplying the bus line with a reflective thought she has made a small difference in the world.
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