Three Ladies

I call them “ The Whisperer “, “ The Radiance “ and “ The One In The Middle “.

The Whisperer was in the store today.

She comes in from time to time. Like the lily - so elegant, so pale, almost translucent. Pure and ethereal and ageless. Tall and straight, with a neat blond braid down her back and long, slim fingers clutching the same three bags year after year, moving slowly yet with purpose, firm of step. If I greet her, as I sometimes do, her pale blue eyes look through me, a deep V forming at the bridge of her nose as if she’s trying to place me, or more likely, trying to find me a place in her world. She doesn’t reply. Merely turns away and continues to walk on, round the aisles looking here, gazing there, never stopping, for she has places to go, things that must be done. Now and again she starts to whisper as if in conversation with someone in her own world. That conversation may last for a moment only, or it can become quite animated, a discussion of world events or what to buy grandmother for her birthday, I cannot tell. But always in a whisper. She doesn’t bother anyone, so we let her be. We consider her part of the family, here in our store. If she should never come back, she would be missed.

Then we have the Radiance.

She doesn’t come in often, but she has been a regular for years as well. Always a lady with a mission, passing with purpose down the aisles, rushing for she carries more than her full load, working full time, yet with a crowded social life and a child with a severe handicap. But for all that she’s in a hurry, she always has time to stop and show me what she’s bought. And to ask for my news. This is not a social nicety. She means it. She wants to know. And she listens with focused attention, with a radiant smile if my news is good, with a glistening of tears, reaching out to touch my hand in compassion if it is not. She lives a life too full, yet she has time for mine. She appears beautiful and young; it is only when you get to know her you see past it to her sadness and what her true age is. She carries it with acceptance and without rancor and with that light within, shining out into the world and touching all who come within her sphere.

I don’t know anything at all about the third lady, other than she wrote a letter, and Clay ran with it on stage.

I can only imagine her. But I think she’s no different from me or pretty much anyone else in this world. We do what we can, and we live our own lives, most of the time minding our own business, but when we think we can help someone in some way, we react. We are merely muddling through, and on occasion reaching out with the best of intentions to help those whom we know and love. We are the ‘ middle ‘ people. We have a grasp of the realities of this world, but we’re not always certain which handle is the best one to grab. So sometimes we get it right and sometimes we don’t. That’s life. We shrug and move on. Unlike the Whisperer and the Radiance.

Both of them were born to the same world as the rest of us. One of them rejected it, and one of them accepted it with her whole being. Both of them saw exactly what this world is, and they reacted according to their natures.

And so be it for the rest of us.