I was out on a walk. Because I was running down on photos for my posts, I turned the walk into a photo taking adventure, especially with the colors of spring blooming all around me. It was a beautiful warm day in a usually cold city so many people were out and about. At a nearby Park, I noticed these old couple walking toward me, saying something I couldn’t make out. I walked to them, maintaining safe distance to hear what they were trying to communicate. They kept coming closer, obviously not aware or typical of old folks, sick and tired and not giving a beep about this crappy safe distancing: not sure which but I was fine. “What photos are you taking?” They asked.

We were all in the same park, seeing the same springing greens and flowers so I’m sure I wasn’t seeing anything they weren’t. But they had seen me wandering and snapping away, probably thinking I was seeing something different they were missing. Or most likely, were they just reaching out to another human, who appeared non-threatening, after being locked up together for so long? I chose to believe the latter and asked them if they really wanted to see my photos? “Of course!” both chorused like little kids out in the park for the first time after winter.

I stood in between and they both closed the gaps as I showed them photos of various colors and postures of flowers and plants and birds I had been taken. They were cooing and aahhing and touching me as they grinned from one side to the other. I looked up from flipping photos on my screen and looked at them on either side of me and saw the widest, the sweetest and the purest of smiles on those childlike but wrinkled faces and my heart turned a poodle of love for these strangers; two precious souls, someone’s parents, grandparents and great grandparents. They were not at all in a hurry. Neither was I.

We chatted a bit before I moved on. Touched by how much joy just a little kindness can produce. Touched by how a little allowance that let them get close to touch me and watch my ‘unspectacular’ photos lighted up their hearts and reflected on their faces even if it was just for a few minutes. Touched by how not doing anything that cost either of us, I drew out sparkles in their eyes and lives.

It wasn’t the “pictures” we watched on my phone that made that moment special. It was the beauty of ‘being” with another being. Just being; no pressure, no prejudice. It was the comeliness of doing something “together” even if it was nothing after all because it meant something to the other. It was the love that drew them to me. It was my willingness to spare a few moments to share my simple photos with them. It was allowing them to see the shades and colors of spring in that park through my eyes. It was the patience in gracing them with my time and allowing them to draw as close as they were comfortable to, without spooking them out with fear.

I went home with not only having accomplished the plan to walk off some ‘thigh-fat’ and get some good shots, I went home with this broad smile that money cannot buy. That hate cannot steal. For as long as we keep labelling whites and blacks, unity will remain a mirage. Until we start seeing and treating every human as worthy of being, until we stop seeing differences and start being. As the sun set that beautiful day, I went home feeling very human for being very human.

Glory!