Tuesday, April 01, 2008


To Whom It May Concern:

When you see me you don’t know me, but you judge me. In a nanosecond, you’ve asked questions, selected probable answers, and summed me up according to the decision making process in your brain. Or is it also in your heart?
I watch you as you notice me. You notice my friend and you wonder, I suspect, why we are together on the train. Is that even allowed?
You look at me again, trying to figure it out. “What could be wrong with her? What does she need that dog for? She doesn’t look blind! She’s looking right AT me! Into my eyes!”. Another nanosecond has passed.
You try not to stare, but you can’t help stealing a look here and there. Besides, the dog is so adorable and well-behaved. Maybe you notice the vest that the dog is wearing. You squint your eyes and tilt your head trying to read the patches on the vest. Still, you look puzzled. Maybe you didn’t know there were dogs for that. Maybe you’re surprised that you’ve learned something new and different. Maybe you are perplexed because one or more of your trusty schemas is no longer 100% valid.
You smile at the dog. I can tell she’s melting your heart, at least a little bit. She does that. I think it comes naturally to her. You smile at me and say something. I’m pretty sure I know what you said, but I want to be certain. “She is such a beautiful dog”, you repeat for me, still smiling. I was right. That IS what you said. I smile and agree, “Yes I think she is, too”. Silently, I add, in so many more ways than you think”.
My stop is next. In a nanosecond, our world revolve away from one another, yet are inherently different from that first nanosecond.


1 comment:

Jenny, the Bloggess said...

Beautifully written.

I think I'm one of those people. I'm so fascinated with people...with their stories and their lives. If I saw you on the bus I'd invent a whole story about you. That you are in love with a man who's blind and that every day you walk him home but he worries about you and so selflessly he sends his dog with you to walk you back home and be your guard.

It's a sickness. I can't help it.