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A Humble Blessing
The last few days the sun keeps playing peek-a-poop as though it is uncertain of the season. Of course it does not help with the weather going from raining hail with gusty wind to no clouds in the sky and the sun shining brightly where sunglasses will not relief your eyes from the brightness. And yet, nothing seems to stop those who live in Bangor, Northern Ireland to continue their day with achieving their goals.
We spent the say in Belfast. The train was jammed with people returning home like us after spending time enjoying the day. I felt as though we were a herd of people in tune with each other as we stepped off the train, moving in a rhythm of steps. The conversing was limited to those who were familiar with each other; otherwise no words were needed to continue in the rhythm pace.
I flew down the stairs to exit the train depot as I opened the doors my hair swirled in the air and I could feel the fresh air as it caressed my face. We were still surrounded by the herd of people rushing to their chosen destinations even though we had slowed down and no longer in tune with the people.
We began walk back toward the car, which was approximately quarter of a mile down the hill of the main street in Bangor. The street was filled with cars moving as though their bumpers were chain together like a roller-coaster. The street pavement divided a variety of retail stores from one-side to the other. There was no specific design in which retail store’s goes on what side of the street.
We decided to go to the local food store on the other side. We proceeded down the street to a crossing where white stripes painted on the pavement indicated the space to walk for all those crossing the street. I noticed as I walked in the store an elderly woman. Although she was unable to stand upright she was dressed up as though she was going to church instead shopping for food. She wore a bright red coat and a black hat covered her pure white hair. There was a three-wheel cart she pushed in front of her to put the items in as she shopped. Her handbag hung off of her wrist and her shoes looked like she had just polished and shined them. She was focused with shopping even though the entrance of the store streamed with people.
There was a lump in my throat as I watched her. I could not help to wonder what her story was…who she was. Even though she walked with a precise slow step behind everyone, she was independent not needing assistance from anyone. I thought how much time she must have taken just to get ready for the day. Then…to the walk to the store…I may not know how far she walked humped over unable to see only the ground in front her, but I cannot image the strength it took for her. She glowed with pride. Perhaps for her this was her life, and she did not give much thought about it. I suddenly felt humble and at the same time feeling blessed to be in her presence’s.

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