Someone today mentioned their pleasure in smiling at strangers to try to make them smile, and I told them about the “game” I play – trying to win a smile from someone who looks really grumpy.
That made me think of a time I almost didn’t succeed. A big crowd of tired, frustrated people lined the corridors of an airport near Christmas time – flights delayed, schedules messed up, children fussy. Everyone fussy. No one smiled. I finally caught the eye of a young woman across the corridor and down a way, and we both smiled.
She soon came over and told me about her game – same as mine. We had a pleasant visit while we waited, and waited, and waited. A couple of hours later, we discovered that our assigned seats were together.
When we were finally in the air, I told her that I was on the way to see my parents, and that my mother had advanced Alzheimers. She had lost her mother to it, we shared experiences, and she consoled me by telling me about a period of clarity at the end that made it easier. I never saw her again, but I remember her still.
Sometimes the serendipities, the coincidences, are just that - "isn't that interesting" events. Sometimes, they do seem like "God-incidents". That stranger's reassuring conversation meant a lot to me at a rough time.
When I was picking the lively brain of Joni Staples about starting a group, I used this as the most recent example that came to mind. She'd been through Alzheimers in her family also.