Feb 15, 2019
Wrong Road, Right Time
The only way to see the past is after it has passed. We have to keep in mind no matter what we do today, it will affect tomorrow. Almost nothing tells us that our choice at the moment will make very much difference later in time! I mean things like wait for the green light, don't eat it if it smells bad are obvious, but most of the time things are not that clear! I guess having good intentions count, and fate says: "Well here we go again, she meant well." I learned maybe to watch the mouth and let some time go by first?
I was born with the ability to know the real person, to sense their inner self, so it never in my life mattered what a person looked like! I find people interesting, but I have to say if someone asked me to describe the person I had just been talking to I would be hard pressed to do so. I could tell a long story about that person's life and what I picked up when we were talking and maybe what age group they were in, but that's about it. I was always tuned in to their feelings, thoughts, actions, attitude, and gestures. If how they looked affected any of that I would take note of it, but otherwise if it did not matter, it did not get noticed. That went for the color of their skin, too. For some reason I knew if you lined up 5 people of different nationalities and/or color and covered each one with a tarp they would ALL require exactly the same thing to survive! No difference whatsoever. That's how I saw life. It has always been a person's actions and attitude that I focused on. It has been a blessing most of the time but when we are young all of our actions pave the way to the future, and at that time, at a young age, we are totally unaware and uninformed about this very important fact!
My parents traveled around all the time. Right at first it was because we were a military family, but after that it was just wherever they wanted to be and where the jobs were. Most of the jobs were in very small towns in the Northwest where there was not a lot of difference when it came to people. They were judged on their actions and income since there was no difference in how they looked. Maybe that turned out to be a good thing since I took those life lessons and I, as well, learned to judged people through their actions not how they looked. I mean we were all the same.
I took that with me when, as a teenager, I got married to another teenager who was in the military. Little did I know what real life looked like, but found out that the freedom I wanted so badly was not at all what I thought it would be! I thought now my boyfriend was mine forever! We could do anything we wanted with no parents to tell us what to do! Needless to say reality is often times a shock, but somehow we managed to survive. We got pregnant right away, and I had no clue what it meant or what was going to happen, but for some reason nature kicked in and we survived. We had military friends no matter where we were stationed and since neither of us cared what anyone else looked like, our best friends in one case was a black couple, Nat and Barb from Texas. We all went everywhere together and since Barb was not able to have kids and I had a new baby girl, the instant we all met up, Barb took the baby and never put her down. It never occurred to me to wonder what people were thinking when this white couple and this black couple carrying a white baby came into view talking and laughing and enjoying life.
One day we were all sitting in the living room watching TV while the news was showing the Little Rock beatings of a group of black people. We all were staring at the TV sad, shocked, saying oh-my-god, oh-no, oh-please-stop...how terrible. But I promise you it never occurred to any of us that we were a black couple and white couple watching the horror of racism. We were just four young people watching hell on TV.
About three years, two military bases, two trips overseas, and another baby later we were living in Oakland, California in a nice apartment building. Back in those days there were quiet, unspoken rules of segregation. Without anyone saying anything, there were white neighborhoods, black neighborhoods, places some could go and some you should not. In my case we were in a nice old neighborhood that had established all these rules many years ago and no one gave it that much thought. There was a small side street between the white and black neighborhoods with a small general store on the corner that allowed all shoppers of all colors and there was never a problem. We were living in one of the several apartment buildings on our block, but across the side street into the black side there were many nice, older homes, all very well cared for. Neither side had any crime or problems.
One day I was at the corner store. It was small so if it looked crowded inside, it was just natural to nicely wait outside for there to be room to take your turn. As I was standing out in the sun smiling and chatting with others also waiting, a beautiful little black girl (maybe about 4-5 years old), beautiful dress, hair neat and braided, came walking across the side street with a small shopping list and some money tightly held in her hand. Back in those days sending a child that age to the store was allowed. Most kids were taught what actions and behavior were expected and then let out to live life and this little girl knew exactly what was expected of her. As she came to the store side of the street she and I smiled at each other and at that moment she tripped and fell and banged her little head on the big blue mailbox that most every corner had. I immediately went to her aid. I picked her up and put a napkin on her bleeding head and comforted her. She calmed down and I said: "I think you need your Mom. I will walk you home, ok?" She nodded and I took her hand and walked back across the street. She was crying and looked in distress so I said "Shall I carry you?" She looked upset and nodded her head. I knew she was upset so as I walked I reassured and comforted her.
About three houses down the street a woman suddenly burst out of a house and began running toward us. I asked the little girl if that was her mother and she nodded her head. The woman quickly grabbed the child from me with fear and shock and anger in her eyes. I smiled and softly said: "She fell and bumped her head and I thought it best if she came home to her Mom." The mother still had this shocked angry look on her face as she turned around and ran back to the house looking back over her shoulder now and then. I smiled and waved at the little girl who was smiling back, then I turned around and walked back to the store. I never gave it much thought. To me it was an injured child given back to her mom.
Several days later I was taking the bus home from work. I hated taking the bus even on a good day but being a young woman alone in the city at midnight was always a danger. The bus route went down a main street to the lake that sits in the middle of the city, then I had to get off the bus, walk across the street to another bus stop, wait for the next one to come along and ride it home to the side street next to my building. I could get off the bus several stops earlier and walk only about three blocks straight to my apartment building, but that, too, was alone on a city street at midnight. But for some reason on this night I felt more afraid to be standing near the lake in the middle of the night, so I got off the bus in the neighborhood I did not belong in.
I began to walk, not weak and apologetic, not forceful, not in charge, not afraid, just steady and sure of myself keeping my eyes on the sidewalk. A man was sitting on the hood of his parked car. As I walked by he slid off the hood and walked softly across the street to the other side. He was the only person I saw on the whole walk home. The only person in a large, nice, black neighborhood on a warm, soft night. To this day I feel sure either fate stepped in or the word had been spread: this was the woman who saved the little girl. It was like for one moment in time, my actions were rewarded. The energy around me was good, it was kind, it was neutral. I never took the walk again, but since that moment in time no one can ever tell me our actions don't pay off.. .one way or the other, everything comes back to us. Think about that.
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Image: www.depositphotos.com/# 133466182 Date: Nov 30, 2018
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