There is a person somewhere I know.

His words come with a welcome for the most closed-off of hearts and with love for every face seen for the first time.

He speaks to a small group of people sometimes. Some are there for the first time. Some are returning. Some have become permanent fixtures around him.
His words reach a physicist sitting in the crowd, a physicist who considers all other sciences below his. He listens to him. Most of what he says, he contradicts in his head.
A few beautiful sentences still make it through.
When he leaves, he leaves with the same disdainful opinion of other scientists but an inexplicably lighter heart.
There is a woman sitting in the crowd too. She is old, her hair wispy, a small hair-clip keeping it in place in her braid. She fell asleep as he talked. When she woke up, it was to bright lights and murmurs of discussion. She moved about in the crowd and spotted the speaker. He was talking to someone else. She watched for a while.
When she left, she left thinking of what her children were about to say next.
One of the listeners didn’t know the language he was speaking in. She was simply sitting there. She meets him every now and then, and on every next visit she carries with her a crystal clear memory of his warmth. When he embraces her on their next meeting the feel of his soft hair against her cheek is a live memory. She’s already waiting for it before he reaches out. When they pull apart he smiles, and she smiles too. He starts speaking. She listens, and her answers to his words have no way out except through the sudden joy enveloping her being. Words don’t suffice.
When they part he says he will pray for her.
They all leave with a fresh page in their hearts.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s