I sit on the bus, heading home, fix my skirt. She’s fourteen, maybe. Possibly pretty behind the screaming makeup, the too-heavy clothing. She stretches overhead, hands gripping metal bars for balance.
The long sleeves of her sweatshirt edge down. I see them. Scars. Red. Angry. Recent.
I hesitate, then turn my palms heavenward. Wrinkles and time half hide the deep cuts that cross my own wrists.
She glances down, lets out a gasp.
We reach her stop. Unsummoned, I follow.
Crossing into a park, she takes a seat.
I’m old. I know what to do.
I sit beside her.
I listen.
Beautiful are the wise in years, patient until we drop ourselves. Listening to the worries of younger ones, to help them survive in this mostly cruel and unjust world. Privileged those few of us are who can endure the bad words of others for Him, for His mercy, peace, and above all His Love, for everyone of us. Very moving story. Indeed I hope that Bill keeps sending them in, for our sake.
Vivid and moving. Thank you.
Beautifully written. What a great reminder to reach out when someone needs help.
Hello Bill,
Powerful message in 101 words!! A gentle reminder: on life’s journey ( apt title, by the way ) people, by overcoming their own pain and adversities, become enabled offering balm and healing to others thrust in their path.
“I listen.” A perfect end to a story of empathy.
Powerful in its message of simple kindness.
This story has few words and yet says so much. Impactful and compassionate.
A powerful story, the more remarkable for its sparing words.
Very moving. Nice work!