She was standing two feet away from me. As the escalator was going up, I turned my head to the right and noticed. The lady, around 50-ish, does not have a left hand. All she had was a smooth stump that ended her wrist. I tried hard not to look. But my curiosity got the better of me. So I saw that on her handless forearm slung a plastic package, plus her handbag. She was laughing, with two of her companions providing the punchline to a joke.
We went our separate ways when we reached the second floor level. But my thoughts stayed with woman with no left hand. How did she lose it? When? When she was sixteen, or when she was thirty-two? Did she figure in an accident, or was it from an obscure flesh-eating disease?
If I had the nerve and no risk of being mistaken for a crazed woman, I’d stop her. And ask her who she is, where she’s from, what she does. And then, if I’d have earned her trust, I’d ask her if we can continue the conversation. And then one day, maybe she’d feel safe enough in my company to tell me the story behind her missing hand.
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There are as many stories waiting to be read as there are human beings on planet Earth. Because every person, without exception, is a story waiting to be told. Indulge me for a moment and imagine people walking around as if they were books. Wouldn’t that be exciting? What books would catch your fancy and what books will get enveloped in dust? Can you forgo sleep just to read through, nay, spend time with, one book that you just cannot put down?
For five minutes tonight, I wanted to read only one book: hers. And discover the story of the woman with no left hand. For all I know, hers might be the story of a mother, a wife, and a daughter whose body might be broken but whose soul is whole.
Filed under: Daily Life, Faith, Melancholic thoughts, On the Giver of Grace
may mga tao talaga na ganun ang effect sa kapwa… striking kumbaga no matter what situation they may be in. this post reminds me of the old lady i saw hanging around different mrt stations about 3 times. she has eye problems and had to resort to asking for some financial help. gusto ko rin sana siya makausap but was too chicken.
Sometimes I guess we just have to get over our fear (of being duped, of being too involved, of being…) and really know people. Jesus talked to the outcasts, the misfits of the society. And for many of them, it was all they needed to feel loved. Of course, we should also be careful but maybe not too careful and miss out on what could be special moments. And special people.