The bright laughter of the children running around the grassy fields in the park drew Dorothy to a nearby bench. She put her grocery bag on the park bench, and then wearily sat down next to it. She had to admit, she didn’t want to go home to an empty house yet. There was too much light left in the day, and it was lonely at home. Her husband and children were gone; there was only so much company a television could give.
She was new to this town, and had met only a few people. What surprised her was that although she had passed dozens of people on the sidewalk from her home to the store, no one had made eye contact with her, or answered her “hello” or “good morning”.
The behavior of the people continued at the supermarket, even to the clerk who ignored her “Hello”, mechanically rang up and bagged her groceries, took her money, and not once look at her.
Dorothy had to admit that the indifference had hurt.
Turning her attention to the children, she smiled as she watched the kids as they noisily played their game of tag. A group of kids were picking dandelions, running back and forth to their mothers with the bright flowers.
One little boy spontaneously left the group and ran up the little hill toward her. Stopping in front of her, he smiled, and then quickly handed her the bunch of flowers in his little fist. The Dorothy smiled back and thanked him as he turned and ran back down the hill, to continue his gathering of dandelions. It was a God in the Ordinary occasion: the boy had seen Christ in her, and she in him.
Renewing warmth filled Dorothy as she watched him fly back down the hill. She looked at the bunch of dandelions in her hands, and thought this was the most beautiful bouquet she had received in a long time.
© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011
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