Time

I witness all types of behaviors, incidences, and actions on the regular all the time. And I mean "all-the-time". Usually when I see an action or hear a word or phrase that forces my eyebrows to rise, I give pause reflecting upon how I could or would have done the same thing, perhaps with a distinctive twist. Often I wonder if I would have even allowed myself to even get in a similar circumstance from the outset.

Most people think since I am a published author, they also naively believe that I write about everything that happens to me. Well truth be told, I don’t. Contrary to popular belief, I do enjoy some privacy, and I don't share all of my personal business with you, my dear reader. I just give my readers enough background information to keep them interested. That's what writers do don't they? In my opinion, the key to writing well is being able to hold the interest of the reader. (I'm still in the classroom when it comes to that one but that in and of itself is an entirely different story). However, when I do write, I get the urge like one would have when you're instantly thirsty. You know that feeling right? You're sitting in front of your boob tube then all of a sudden your throat becomes persistently parched. You can't ignore that feeling for sure. Hence, you make a mad dash to the kitchen to quench that thirst monster dontcha? Sure ya do!

What usually prompts me to write articles that are, let's say, more moving than others, is plain ol' unadulterated human nature and people, of course. Heck, I've sat for hours in the depths of New York City and "people watched" for hours. There's nothing like it believe me. What people say to me, how they treat and react to me, or even things I may or may not do, remain in a class by its lonesome. People and their human nature intrigue me to the fullest. Doesn't mean I always agree or disagree for that matter with the shocking and extraordinary activities I see and hear all the time, but "watching" and I guess "listening", feeds my hungry for another reason to write. I enjoy putting pen to paper encouraging the person reading to ponder on a deeper level what they've read. After reading what I've written who knows? Maybe they're shocked, hurt, and angry or prompted to become an introspective observer like I normally am. And for this reason, and this reason only, I've penned…Time:

I usually take the train into work each morning. Saves gas in my ride, and makes my transition from "sleepy" to "work" mode relaxed. During one of my commutes, I witnessed a young woman who looked to be no older than 22-years old, if she was that old. I had seen this woman board the train many times and what sparked my visual interest in her was the fact that she was handicapped. What happened to this woman to leave her in such a condition? I wondered. She was so young! Usually, while accompanied by her male companion, she'd board the train entering through the handicapped entrance at the front, and aided by her walker, she generally took the first two seats. Commuters who occupied these seats quickly got up once they saw a "handicapped" person boarding, giving up their seat. However, on this particular morning the plot thickened. I don't know this woman's name, so I'll call her Ursula for clarity.

As Ursula boarded the very crowded train and commenced to approach the handicapped section, the commuters who were sitting in those handicapped seats remained seated. I couldn’t believe what I just saw! Let me elaborate on something for a minute:

Sometimes, at least for me, when I see those less fortunate than others, the degree that the person is handicapped, sometimes solicits greater emotion from the onlooker. Ursula was one such individual. Not only was she assisted by a walker, but with each step she took, her feet kind of went out, in a slew footed position and she gave the appearance of having to drag her feet to get then to obey. Coupled with the fact that Ursula was a slim woman, obviously absent the upper body strength needed to properly maneuver her walker, coupled with her own body weight, in any event, anyone watching this scene unfold knew she was having a difficult time just trying to get her feet to comply in synch with her walker!

As I was saying, the commuters who occupied the handicapped section refused to get up so she could take the seat. Ursula stood directly in front of these two individuals as though she expected them to get up, but they would not be moved. To add insult to an already injurious situation, as Ursula eyed them, they casually looked away and peered out the window. Ursula just stood before those two commuters--blocked from being able to sit down. People. Gotta love em right?

I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. Couldn’t they see she deserved that seat? How could people be so callous and ornery? How can a person truly be that cantankerous? To my surprise, Ursula lugged her weary body over to a window and forced her almost shriveled frame to rest on the floor in the middle and underneath her walker! (If a person can be underneath and in the middle of a walker). I noticed how deformed her tiny legs looked as she yanked them to a curled position beneath her frame while those two commuters stubbornly remained seated! What has the world come to? See why I say people and the way they behave interests me now?

Everyone was scurrying around Ursula looking down upon her and asking her if she wanted their (not handicapped equipped seats), while all along the seats that were created specifically for special people such as Ursula remained taken by hardened folk.

With a smile, Ursula looked up and replied, "No thank you, I'm alright down here."

Mind you, Ursula made this reply while scrunched down on the cold, hard dirty floor of the train. My heart bled for this young girl even though I was helpless to make her devastating situation any better. I was so unnerved about what I saw that morning that it plagued me for days.

I believe what pestered me the most was this: If life takes the expected route, first and foremost, our children would not predecease us, the parents. We never expect an otherwise, healthy looking twenty-year old to become injured and in need of a walker to do what most of us take for granted…walking. This thing called life sometimes I swear! Sometimes it's just so unfair. Once you think you've got it all down, and know the ropes, life somehow slams you with a left-hand--a sidewinder if you will.

Sometimes I ask myself what's the point? Why even try at all if we keep getting hit with sidewinders all the time? But then my sense of logic kicks in once again allowing me to remember to only take one second at a time, one minute, one hour, one day individually. I’m reminded how blessed each of us are to see another sunrise. The Almighty has a plan in store for each of us. I'm learning to believe, "if he brings me to it, he'll see me thought it". Now, I might not get through my problem or heartbreaking experience the way I think I should, but I'll get through it nevertheless. What matters is "getting through" a situation or "being able to handle," it better in the long run right?

If we allow ourselves to look at things that happen to us, or things we must do in their entirety instead of taking one little aspect of it and handling that part first, we'll always be overwhelmed. I know I would be. We all have "stuff" to do that we don’t want to do. We all have hurts, pains, strains, strifes, deaths, murder of a loved one and any other painful or blood pumping situation one must brave while life winks at us. But as we're courageously living our lives and valiantly confronting our responsibilities, let's not forget to humble ourselves to the handicapped. They're the ones who left their houses this morning like you and I mindless to the outcome that awaited them as their day progressed. How does one know at the end of the day that you'd be drastically…..different? Handicapped?

The next time you're on a train, bus, taxi, walking or just o-u-t, if you see a handicapped person, or even an elderly person, pluheeeze assist them if need be. Open a door for them, fold up their wheelchair, and grab a hold of their elbow if it means they will feel confident about not falling. And by all means, if you're seated in the handicapped section, pluheeeeze give up your seat so they can have it.

Check this out: The only difference between you and any handicapped person you see on the street is time. Being in the wrong place at the right time, or even the right place at the wrong time, and WHAM! An accident engulfs you and now you're the one who's hindered and handicapped. How many times have we learned that accidents can happen any day, any time, any where, to any body?

Don’t force someone who's at a disadvantage to feel blocked, helpless and defenseless like Ursula felt. Don’t give in to a nonsensical way of thinking just because we have to juggle "life". Don't you know life really is all about…. time. And we all know "time won't give you time."

@2007 by C. V. Harris. All rights reserved.