The Uncommon Act of Giving Someone Time
I call out to an old friend waiting in the busy street’s quiet median.
He turns. He smiles. I walk to him. We stand in the median and we talk. It turns out we are headed in the same direction.
Side by side, we go west. I ask about his life and he asks about my life.
We come to his turnoff and we stop. We talk more.
I am calm with him. He listens. He is unrushed. He gives me his time. And the uncommonness of that can make a person feel valuable.
We say goodbye. And my old friend, who is a rare quiet median in the busy street, walks away, leaving me more whole than before.
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