I noticed his age before his disability. And his disability was immediately visible in the form of a white cane that he swept carefully in front of him. Even so, it was his age that drew attention. It was as if he'd achieved a Biblical kind of age. Like he'd have considered Noah a radical youth when he started to build the arc. He walked as if he didn't fully trust the cane. He swept with his left hand and walked with his right hand raised, as if about to give an oath. His feet shuffled the ground. He wore shoes that looked like they were kissing cousins to slippers.
It was a bright, bright, sunny day. The first we've had in forever. People were rushing about, mostly smiling, mostly chatting. Men bared bright white legs to the elements. Women wore blouses without sleeves and held sweaters draped over their arms. Everyone seemed to just want to be outside. Glances that had grown frosty over the winter began to thaw as neighbour nodded to neighbour. It was glorious. He was amongst them, walking carefully and slowly, sweep, sweep, sweeping his way towards his destination.
I saw him from far off, my wheelchair runs silent so I like to cut a wide swath away from those using canes. Give distance in safety. I don't like to startle the sighted, I equally don't want to frighten the blind. But I passed near enough to him to hear that he was quietly speaking as he took step after careful step. At first I was taken by surprise and glanced over to see that indeed he was talking, his lips moving almost imperceptibly.
'What a glorious day we have today.'
'What a glorious day we have today.'
'What a glorious day we have today.'
I'm sure few heard him. His voice was soft, well used. It was a voice that sounded like it had never been raised, never spoken with cruelty, a completely gentle voice. 'What a glorious day we have today.'
Reaching the door I wanted to enter, I pushed the button and waited for it to swing open. I turned and watched him walk away. Hand raised. Cane parting the sea of people in front of him. People talking on phones, people with buds in their ears unable to listen to his message for texting their own.
He seemed to be what he was.
A prophet.
Bringing the truth.
To people not hearing.
5 comments:
I like that one!
Aside, regarding your last full paragraph...I think texting is the worst thing that has ever happened to communication.
What a beautiful moment.
Wow, the people you meet!
Would it be bad to point out a spelling mistake? In the context of Noah it's arK not arC! Blame Sunday School lol
Noisyworld, I'll fix it next on blogger, thanks. And, by the by, it's always ok to comment on any aspect of the blog.
Perfect just perfect....is too bad more don't take the time to hear and observe what you do. Once again thanks for sharing!!!
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