Why Did the Woman Cross the Street?

Driving to work on a new street, diverted by construction, I already had a feeling it was going to be a detour day – full of thwarted desires & ideas.  Case in point: the next stoplight on the broad, suburban street was green but I had to stop before I turned left to give a pedestrian the right of way. It was definitely a day of delays & distractions.

Fingers tapping on my steering wheel to the rhythm of the radio, I looked closer at the girl in the crosswalk. A slim, white cane skimmed the asphalt just ahead of her steps, her thin brown hair swung shoulder to shoulder, and her face was creased with mortal terror.

My commute paused. My dissatisfaction with my day dissolved. My perspective shifted.  I’ve never had to cross a street with my eyes closed.

The world is a hard enough place for trust when you can see it, and faith is harder to find in the dark. As human beings, our paths intersect all the time in unexpected ways. Sometimes detours bring disasters, but sometimes they introduce something different, drastic, indispensable.

The moment passed – she made it unscathed to the other corner, while I turned left and drove through the detour – but her courage stays with me. I don’t know why the woman had to cross the street, but I’m grateful that she did.

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