We waited our turn in the long, slow-moving line as the sun beat down on our sweaty foreheads. Ahead I saw only three windows open to grant admission to the local zoo, and that seemed too few for a busy Saturday. When we finally made our way to the front of the line I could see the frazzled frustration and fatigue of the older woman dealing out our tickets. Eyes downcast, brow set in a determined frown, she busied herself with the task at hand, not looking up at our approach while she called out, “how many?”
Against my quiet character, I felt the necessity to answer with more than just the number count of our crew. So after commenting back the answer she desired I added, “how are you doing today?”
Along with my question I presented her with a genuine smile. It was the kind of expression that lit up a face, that offered kindness. The type of facial expression that exuded joy while also offering a true desire to interact on more than just the typical business level. In other words, my smile, my inquiring eyes, crinkled at the corner and beaming with contentment spoke more than just a cursory question. My countenance spoke that I really wanted to know. I saw her as a human, not just a ticket machine, and I cared. Sometimes that’s all a person needs.
Now, I’m not trying to say I hold a deep affection for strangers. And such a fake sentiment would surely show. Yet I did love her as a fellow person in this world, trying to transverse through the difficult mess of it, just like me. A sister almost, even if not by blood. I had not always seen others this way. Sometimes I still didn’t, but I was trying.
At my question, the most amazing thing occurred. As if an invisible veil was lifted, so did the dredging darkness from her face. She looked up, her eyes took on a spark, and her entire appearance transformed. So light was her spirit at that moment, so airy, so encouraged. She smiled back, a big one, and she began to animatedly share about her day. A friendly banter among strangers. My heart felt as light and airy as her countenance had appeared.
As I walked away I thought about her response to my interaction. It had been a joy to watch. Someone having a busy, difficult day, found some glee in the middle of it by something as simple as a smile and question directed towards her well-being. It reminded me of how on a hard day of bedside nursing I could be lifted out of my pit of despair by a friendly patient with a compliment and smile. Funny how kind interaction could alter someone’s little universe.
I can remember a time back just a few years when I celebrated my inability to function in social situations. A self-proclaimed introvert, I shied from conversation, kept my eyes averted, and walked the other way if I saw someone in the store I knew. It was simply easier for me that way. Interaction made me uncomfortable, people weren’t my favorite thing, other than the select few I invited into my life.