i hugged a woman i did not know today.
and said, i love you.
her name was joyce.
i only asked her this,
after,
i held her hand.
and listened to her for nearly half an hour.
tell, of how she was ashamed.
that she had snapped.
and yelled. at the new clerk in the old store
she had been shopping at for the last 12 years.
where she had been shopping, because
so new to this country, from jamaica, via the cayman islands,
she had learned to appreciate places where she could
feel as though she was patronizing friends.
maybe i'm wrong, but perhaps, she missed a little of her home country.
where people at her age know one another, for so long, that
there is little fear of being misunderstood, and
after so many years, she felt she had conjured a little piece of home here,
in this terribly transient, senselessly impersonal peninsula of a state
{kind of an island, yet, not quite}
a small ocean,
and many worlds away.
so she had snapped, because, as i tried to make out from her telling,
she had been so affronted, she had been yelled at, and told to leave the store, for the simple offense, of cheekily addressing her old friend,
in the manner they were accustomed to doing.
by walking in the door, and saying, "hey, woman!"
knowing, full well, her friend would laugh, and they would fall into a round of patois.
and chuckling.
and laughter.
and with tears in her eye,
she asked me,
after 12 years,
if she was so wrong.
if i would take offense,
if i would misunderstand,
if had overheard her exchange with her friend.
in the moment, i must say,
my head was spinning,
i could not understand at first,
why she had found me
and had felt such a burning need to tell this all to me
and to introduce herself, by asking,
"hey, can i ask you something?
can i ask you,
would you be offended if i called you
"woman?"
would YOU?
i had no idea, in truth, when she asked, where it was leading.
i had never met her.
she had never seen me before.
and so, i asked,
why? she had asked me?
and her heart unburdened itself.
and she talked of her shame.
and of her sorrow, for not turning,
as her pastor had taught,
the other cheek.
and i listened.
and i asked questions.
so she could clarify.
her grief.
and i held her hand.
and i touched her hurt.
and i said,
"if you had addressed me, as such,
all i would have to see,
is that twinkle in your eye,
and the smile on your face,
to know your heart is kind,
to know you meant it in jest"
and we talked, of all the reasons,
she may have been misunderstood.
of all the conditioned responses,
to a litany of bad experiences,
this woman may have fallen into.
and. in the course of her telling.
of her shame about screaming. and cursing.
of her confession. of tears. and of praying for forgiveness.
of her fearing and her feeling
she had failed her expression of
what it meant to be 'a child of G-d'
of her trying, still,
to make sense of what she couldn't understand.
i asked her, for 2 things.
as i held her hand between both of mine
over the counter, in our busy store.
i asked her. if we could agree.
to bless the heart of this woman who had so wronged her.
who had called her out,
and shut her down,
and shamed her,
and elicited in her such a protective, defensive,
response.
i asked her,
if we could agree, to ask that this experience
would allow this woman to consider,
how she might misjudge others.
and re-act.
without taking time to listen,
and to know.
that not everyone is needing to be put in their place.
is out of line
is on the offensive.
if it would take the crescendo of emotions that occured.
to stop the whole spinning world for these two women in this moment to reflect.
then something truly beautiful could happen.
and they could both move on, even better for what had happened.
and so, it was.
joyce and i prayed for this woman,
who had acted as her enemy.
and blessed her.
and i asked joyce.
if i could do something else.
if i could come around the counter,
and hug her.
and.
i did.
i hugged her.
and i held her, as she cried.
and.
i whispered.
G-d forgives you, joyce.
it's okay. G-d loves you.
you are loved.
joyce,
i love you.
you have a good heart, joyce.
your heart would not be so burdened, otherwise.
and.
in the end, joyce said.
she had decided,
she would call the store, and apologize.
even though,
it was clear,
she had been misjudged.
and was treated poorly.
and felt wronged.
we discussed how.
even though,
her response was not what she had wished it to be,
there was grace in this moment.
and beautiful things could come from it.
understanding.
and healing.
and a sea change of seeking to understand others.
and, as she sighed on my shoulder,
i thought,
that beautiful things,
already had.
