Kindnessgirl

It was a cold winter morning, I could see my breath as I walked towards the local coffee shop. I pushed open the door to a warm rush and the clanging of the bell that hit the door letting the coffee girl know I had arrived. She was in a grouchy mood this morning, my cheerfulness didn’t help either. I didn’t really care as I was too excited about the chai latte she was handing me.

I sat down intending to write about Charles and the stranger experience of my life that happened only a week earlier in the very same spot but I got distracted. There was a woman sitting in front of me, she was very beautiful, the kind of beauty that causes you to look again and longer the second time.

It was her face that told her story so clearly. Her eyes held a deep sadness that acted like a window to her soul. Her partner sat beside her with a baby in his lap, the baby was equally as lovely but with a newness of hope.

I’m not sure why but I began to pray for her, I haven’t prayed in so long: …bring the light to the surface so she can see it today God, relieve her grief and help her to see the truth that lies before her. Send her hope, send her peace, help her to take it deep into her heart…

It took everything in me to not grab her hand and say, “It’s going to be okay…”. I sat thinking how crazy the whole exchange in my head was. How quickly people come and go, even strangers, and yet we are connecting if only for a minute. There is often no need to even speak. Why is it that in this little coffee shop it happens almost every time?
Some places are sacred and they don’t seem to know it. The couches are like pews where you kneel before a great altar (the altar in this case being the coffee table) to lay your burdens down. The communion is a bagel or brownie dipped in a simple cup of joe. You taste and see that the divine understands our brokenness.

I decided it really isn’t even about the couches, the table or the coffee, there is an invitation that resides in the walls. It is one to release the things inside that ail your soul or offer words of wisdom to another, maybe even a stranger. It’s the magic of holy places, and the truth that in the end, there are no strangers.