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by Lisa Yeager

 

I saw a woman in the supermarket today. She had a hold of an elderly woman's hand, their eyes shut tight. And it dawned on me they were praying, right there in the turn of the aisle. All I could do was watch, dumbfounded and quite amazed.

The younger woman might have been a minister, I was never sure. She was wearing black from head to toe. Black dress, black stockings, black shoes. Though her hair was a bottle blonde. And all that was in her shopping cart was a single white carnation with baby's breath. The elderly woman's cart was bare.

Imagine, if I had gone to them. Laid my hand on theirs. Held my eyes tight and began to say my own prayers to them. What would they have done. Would they be shocked? Would they have been grateful? Kind? Mean? I stood there contemplating my actions, not caring that they may have noticed my stares.

If I had done it, If I had made that advance.. and ended their prayer "And So mote it be". Wonder if they would have realized what my words actually meant. I scoffed at my thinking, they would probably think I was some foreign Christian missionary. I sighed and I walked away, feeling the urge of wanting to comfort the elderly woman in the shopping market knowing she would never accept who I am.

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