“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief… and unspeakable love.”
… Washington Irving
***
The skies were dark. A brisk wind hinted of the freezing rain and thundering gusts that were gathering. I quickened my pace along the Boulevard Puerto Aereo.
Mexico City had not been kind to me, though the tempting tacos were indeed delicious concoctions of sassy jalapeños, mysterious meats, and age old recipes.
There’s a special place in my heart for a smiling Señora and her street corner taco stand. I figured a savory stall in the Metro would be no different.
I’ve been wrong before.
I just wanted to board my flight, and arrive without incident in Ecuador.
In my rush to outwit life I carefully jumped across a gutter swollen with filth, and eyed the terminal entrance. It was close.
An obscure shadow among the colors and chaos of La Ciudad, I was drawn toward an island of quiet despair amidst the clouds of belching cars, and menacing thunder and lightning. A woman with a young child sat shivering in the gutter.
She said nothing, her tattered dress turning dark with the initial assault of rushing waters rising fast. She had no delicious tacos to sell. She held her cupped hand high.
There were many people along the boulevard that day. Who can know how many saw this woman and her child. Most were no doubt just like me, in a hurry to leave somewhere behind in the hope that somewhere new might be better, or at least different.
She was in no hurry. She had nowhere to go.
As the tearful mother held her hand high, I made a choice to pass her by, finding my rush to evade the impending storm and catch my flight, of much more importance.
It was a pleasant flight, smiles and friendly conversation, and as I looked east out the window, the Andes Mountains were nothing short of majestic. Far from the muffled roar of jet engines there was stillness in the muted peaks that rose far above the clouds. No color, no chaos. I could only imagine fertile valleys, and bustling markets, and the lives that fill them with smiles and sadness.
Thirty five years later I still see the suffering in the poor woman’s eyes, and still feel the regret of not sharing what I could with her and her child. It would have required very little to brighten her day. Thankfully, I am truly blessed with the love she shared with me. There was no judgement, no reproach, no anger; just her sorrow laden smile through which she gave freely everything she could, a smile that today is part of who I am.
As I embrace my good fortune, I hope that everyone with whom I have crossed paths has found reason to be grateful. For those who haven’t, perhaps someday we will meet again, and I can offer a more enlightened recognition of your beauty. For those I have yet to meet, know that your beauty precedes you, and the pleasure of your acquaintance will be mine.
It’s a good idea to pay attention when the Universe is speaking, and it is the goal of this sometimes selfless soul, to listen well, and to graciously act upon the Universal wisdom given freely to all.
Give without measure, knowing that your life is not about you, it is about how you touch the lives of others.
It is about kindness.