Three Women With Messages

In the past week, three women – none of whom I really know from Eve – have spoken to me without even knowing it. I don’t wish to impose my beliefs on anyone; you may or may not believe in omens, harbingers and heavenly messengers, but I happen to. And I am sort of dense, in the loveable manner of a cartoon character, which is why I need all messengers to be direct and straightforward. Messages enshrouded in symbolism get lost in my foggy noggin.

Of course, I faked it through many an English class by claiming that the broken glass in some poem or movie or play “represented Man’s inhumanity to Man,” but that was all just guesswork. In fact, in any discussion of symbolism, I always found that to be a good all-purpose answer, sort of the duct tape in the literary toolbox. I see these movies where a guy is talking to a woman and then suddenly a train enters a tunnel and then people are running around the base of the Washington Monument, eating hot dogs and falling into crevices, and nothing registers with me beside a) the train entered a tunnel and b) everyone was in DC seeing the sights.

Anyway, here are the lessons from three women:

One was a woman who entered the Baltimore City Engine 45 firehouse just before Peggy and I did on our annual trip to see one of the best firehouse train gardens we’ve ever seen. We like to see the display; they change it every year in some aspects, but there are always traditional parts of it and always brand new ideas. There was a time that most bars, clubrooms and firehouses around here had very elaborate Christmas gardens with model trains running about, little villages, the whole deal. We spent a few minutes on each section and moved along. But this lady took her time; by the time we were leaving, she was only about ½ way through the path. The smile on her face! She was so happy to be there, enjoying the great work of the firefighters, who start putting the garden together in August every year. She was to remind me of the importance of taking time to enjoy life’s pleasures.

Second was a young lady in a wheelchair, most tragically confined there by cerebral palsy. She was at one of the 87 malls I have been to over the past several weeks, and she was enjoying the sights and sounds with a broad smile. She was to remind me to shut my piehole the next time I even DREAM of complaining about a cold or a hangnail or my achin’ feet.

Third was a woman in a shelter this morning, literally screaming with unabashed joy because she had found a job! It’s been a long time since I was out of work, and maybe it’s good to be reminded of what it feels like NOT to have a job and the joy that comes with having one. I have sometimes counseled people who are slacking off in their work to remember the alacrity with which they started the job. Be glad to have work, and work to be gladder! In this case, it means so much more than what she will earn financially. It’s a step back on the road to independent self-determination, and a way to feel like she belongs somewhere as part of a team.

I’m always on the prowl for more lessons to learn. Please make them readily accessible. As I say, I'm kinda dense.