February 18, 2024
Waiting rooms…a sprinkling of people, each with a life story. Usually we come, sit down, go, and never hear these treasures.
A while ago, I sat in my hairdresser’s waiting room, fixated on my phone screen. In walked a tiny grey haired lady, who sat down by herself, and gazed to the other side of the room.
I do not hear the voice of God out loud, but I did feel His silent, insistent nudge to speak with her.
“Excuse me, ma’am, do you live around here?” I felt a bit awkward.
“Yes,” she replied, and told me which well known local recreational business that she owned.
“My husband and I came here from another country many years ago and built it from the ground up. He died six years ago today.”
No wonder she had been sitting silently, lost in thought, in grief.
Our turns were called to our respective hairdressers, and we parted ways.
Meanwhile, I looked up on my phone about her family business. What an inspiring story! Afterwards, we had a chance to chat more while she waited for her ride. A lifelong marriage and a long life of productive work.
It was a privilege to meet her. Later at home I found a couple of my poems about grief and sent them to her with a card.
