Day 65 Kiosk

The place I live has a vibrant downtown.  Don’t you miss going downtown?  Street corners and storefronts, window displays and the bustle of people coming and going in the sunshine.  It’s clean and bright in my downtown, everywhere you look there are students from the university, tourists, couples and impossibly young-looking people pushing strollers with infants.   After a lunch meeting with a friend, I pulled my car in the direction of the kiosk to pay my parking fee and was confronted by an elderly, cranky-looking gentleman taking my ticket and eventually my money.   He spoke with an exaggerated, comical foreign accent and as we engaged in the usual clerk/patron banter he burst out laughing and began speaking in a predictable voice.

As he inserted my parking ticket and took my cash (an unspeakably tedious task he must repeat endlessly throughout his shift) he explained that he was happy to be working in such a beautiful place (a parking garage!) and practicing speaking with a foreign accent and enjoying another beautiful day in paradise!  As I drove out into the street I was struck by his humor and good will.  How easy it is to allow self-pity and weariness submerge our demeanor and consequently poison the atmosphere around us.  I find such people noble in their desire to extend cheer even in a busy and perfunctory setting.

Never underestimate the power of a smile, a little humor and a kind word.  These small gestures have the ability to change molecules and shift energy.

“May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house.”
~George Carlin
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5 Responses to Day 65 Kiosk

  1. June Smith says:

    The concept is going around! At our weekly Lenten soup supper in the hall at St. Joseph’s last Monday, our table decided to do this as an assignment and report back our experiences on this upcoming Monday.

  2. Lucy Camacho says:

    We all need to bring more of God’s sunshine into the world

  3. Stanley Lawson says:

    A Eulogy for Jesus

    Each evening, he awakened to face the blur of twilight.
    Time seemed endless. Yet, he had lost so many years.
    Returning home from the desert,
    his hands were cold to the bone.
    He was often in a trance, neither awake nor asleep.
    He waited for an end which seemed never to come.
    Yesterday was a dream.
    The desert was a dream.
    Temptation was a dream.
    Last words became the same to him as the first.
    There was no difference between them, only time, only distance.

    Cold was the chill that ran up his spine
    with the thought of the Cross,
    For it was his to see yet not his to escape.
    By the betrayals of others,
    his heart was made still within the stillness of time.
    And he was left alone to face the tomb.
    But his legend would not let him rest.
    His disciples would not let him rest.

    So, let us ask.
    What if life returned to his limbs?
    What joy would he find?
    What if breath returned to his body?
    What meaning would there be?

    No longer does he have to face the day.
    No longer does he have to suffer betrayal.
    Now he sleeps.
    But if he awaked,
    the nightmare would continue where it left off,
    in the twilight,
    in the streets,
    in the growing darkness.

    Never again will he gaze upon life,
    or win it back in another time,
    or in another place.
    With his eyes now closed,
    the blur of evening is replaced with myths of a life now gone.
    He says goodbye to this life as he first did long ago,
    night after night,
    Mass after Mass,

  4. Joanna Haston says:

    Many of those kinds of people are angels,, gracing our day. May your day be blessed with them!

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