The Camel-haired Boy

Dear Sofia,

I am sitting at the airport. I have a 5 hour flight delay. 

There is a full moon.

I need to get where I am going. There is a friend.

I am reminded this is a tiny setback. And so I breathe.

I am reminded: appreciate all the times when things are smooth, when your life is comfortable. There is a woman getting a harrowing diagnosis right now. This is nothing. 

I breathe more deeply. 

I am learning about patience. Over and over again. The hard way.

A delay is a delay. Nothing more. Things have their timing.

I know I know, I want to say to the sky.

I am reminded to be grateful.  

I am grateful, I say to myself. 

I say it again, this time without the sarcasm.

I sit at a table. I am in the Nathan's hotdog zone with a cup of hot water for my tea. 

I begin to do work on my computer.

I have music on with headsets. The world around me begins to disappear.

Suddenly- a little face comes up close with mine. Too close.

I show my surprise and hold my breath. 

It is a boy, your age, maybe younger. 

He has camel-colored hair. He is talking but I can't hear him. He is so close to me. 

I take off my headsets.

Hi, I say. It is what I say when I don't know what to say.

Hi, he says back. 

I look for a parent. I see a father watching. I want this father to say, Son, leave the lady alone, she's busy.

I am busy. Too busy. All week running around from different jobs. Traveling. I need to get back to my work.

But the boy with the camel-colored hair interrupts my thoughts.  

I ate bread and egg for breakfast today, he says.

Nice, I say. I think this must be a scam. Is the father trying to hit on me? Is he selling something?

What are you eating? He points to the aluminum foil on my table. 

And for some reason this makes me relax. And I know this is no scam.

It is bread and egg, I say.

Do you have cheese on it? he asks.  

No, I say.

Me neither! He is excited about our bread and egg with no cheese connection.

I'm allergic to cheese and to milk and to sooooooo many things. He says this emphatically. Are you?

I look him in his eyes now, they are a deep dark brown.

No, I'm not, I say. Almost wanting to lie so that we can talk more about it. About our allergies.

Oh.

He still likes me though.

He tells me about the day they told him he was allergic to soooooo many things. His arms reach up, his eyes move from side to side.

I was worried! he says. I thought, will there be enough food in the world for me? 

But then, he continues, I found out there was Chinese food and Jewish food and Japanese food. And I can can eat that!

His father laughs at this. He is a good father.

There is food in the world for me! He is laughing, exalted.

He brings his arms down. He smiles big and bright.

During the brief silence I wonder, Would I have let you, Sofs, talk to someone like this? Would I not have pulled you away, or said, Leave the nice lady alone, she's busy?  Had you stopped going up to people entirely because I'd told you not to, so many times? 

I feel sad about this.

But, the camel-haired boy is still talking. He is saying some things now that don't make sense. I wonder if he has a diagnosis. I think, He probably does, by the gentleness with which his father watches him. Completely free from annoyance. Unfazed by any sense of impatience.

It is like this father knows he may not be here forever.

Softly, his father says, it's time to go.

The boy lifts his backpack and looks at me.

Bye, I say, because I don't know what else to say.

Bye, he says back.

He is almost out of my view but he runs back to me.

And then, loudly, so that many people can hear, he says, I really hope I get to see you again. I don't think I ever will, but I really hope I do.

I blow him a kiss.

He blows me a kiss back.

And he is gone.

He leaves and I am bursting with love. For him. For you. For every single person.

A lady and her friend near me says, That was so beautiful, what that boy said to you. How darling.

Love is everywhere.

If I had not be delayed, I would not have met him, this child that I would probably never see again, who cracked my heart open.

Once again. Like a coconut in my grandmother's yard cracked open so the juice can flow out.

I fall out of myself. Out of my own constraint.

Sofs, treat every moment like this father with his son. As if it is fleeting.

With softness, without impatience. With wonder.

Watch this oyster of a world and look for the pearl she is waiting to share.

It's like this.

Why do we cross paths with the people we do? Why?

I don't know.

But I know that with every moment I allow myself to truly experience, I expand.

And the delays in life--give me the much needed time to do this.

If you do not slow down, the world will slow you down.

Be grateful for it.

There is plenty of food in this world for you.

And it may come in the form of a gregarious little boy with camel-colored hair.

Who knows how it will come. That's the fun part.

And when you find it.

Let it crack you wide open.

Because none of us will be here forever.

Ma

p.s. I found a poem: 

"Tenderly, I now touch all 

things,

Knowing one day we will part."

(St. John of the Cross)

Comments

[Polly Flint]

What a lovely entry in such a unique Maylen way of speaking! Sofs sure is lucky to have you for her Momma...I look forward to seeing you all again. I hope your friend is alright. Consider yourself hugged. :) ~Polly

[sofiastories]

Thank you!!! I hope to see you soon too. If only we didn't live so far away....;)

[Supra Shoes]

Shuai is spent, Cool Albert!

[Louis Vuitton Outlet]

what would be nice to see along with the tickets sold is the allotment each school was supposed to sell. For instance I see that Minnesota sold 3,000 tickets for last year's Insight Bowl, but how many were they required to sell? Did they meat their allotment or how short were they?