What is there to say?
I met her when we were picking up our repaired cars.
I passed her while walking out.
She had been crying, but trying to hold back.
I was afraid.
Afraid of offending her.
Afraid of looking foolish.
Afraid of intruding.
I swallowed that and touched her.
She fell into my arms with deep, gulping sobs.
Her accent was strong.
I thought she said hurricane.
She is from Haiti.
Some of her family was still there.
It was January 12, 2010.
The rest of the world did not yet know.
She let me drive her home.
She let me cry with her.
She let me pray with her.
She let me mourn with her.
What a blessing to me.
I think about her every day.
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2 comments:
Oh Cindy - that is such a strong image. Why do these things happen? Why this earthquake or why Hurricane Katrina or why the horrific 9/11 day? I'm glad you were able to provide some comfort. I want someone to be accountable. I want to know who to ask why to. Your faith provided her comfort -- where my lack of faith would have had another reaction.
Oh, WOW.
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