Going into the library today I held the door for a woman with three children, two little ones walking and one in a stroller. She was clothed in the traditional wear of a woman who was Arab and she was carrying a large cloth bag full of books. They were happily chattering away and I got big smiles from all of them. I thought what a great outing for the children.
Inside there was a man on a computer trying to get online. He was talking on his phone to someone in a language I did not recognize and though this person was trying to tell him what to do, it wasn't working. An edge of desperation was creeping into the man's voice and at one point, I thought he was going to cry. Just as I was mustering the nerve to ask the gentleman if I could be of any help, the librarian came along and sat down beside him. Her kind and soothing manner soon had the man calmed down as she attempted to figure out what it was he was trying to do. They were still working on it when I left.
It made me think of how hard it must be to come to a new country, one with a different language, culture, climate. I wonder how I would fare with all the stress if I had to do that. Would I be giving out big smiles? Or would I be weeping in frustration. How lucky I am to live in the country I was born in, somewhere I have not been forced to leave...a fact never ever thought of and just taken for granted. In this world today and with the way things are going, just that fact alone is something of a blessing.
Still feeling lucky, back home relaxing with my tray
and my needle and thread, and so thankful for these quiet hours to do what I please.
My magnolia flowers are starting to blossom but poor birdie still doesn't have a beak. I'll have to rectify that soon.