Angel for a Moment

Today’s commute into town was different. I made it to the train with time to spare and made it to my building before the top of the hour but checked in at my desk 10 minutes later than my scheduled arrival.

You see, this morning, I decided to slow the pace down a bit. I decided to walk a little further than normal. I took a chance and decided not to walk alone.

As I took my normal route, at my normal pace, a young Italian lady, likely in her mid-70’s, asked me in an almost indecipherable accent, whether I could point her toward the Italian Consulate in the 600 building of Atlantic Ave, downtown Boston. Thankfully she had the address printed on a scrap of paper.

When I found that her morning destination was very near where I work, I was more than happy to point her in the right direction. I did just that, I pointed her in the direction of my building, and began walking again…but as she did her best to keep up with me I slowed down a touch. She motioned that she would walk with me since she noticed I was headed in the same direction. It would be another mile before she arrived at her destination, which I didn’t mention was just a block away from mine. I don’t know how she got to Haymarket, where she was coming from, or how long she had been asking passers-by for directions.

We walked side-by-side in silence for a minute or two and then I asked “So you’re from Italy?” (not ESP, just observation since she was heading to the Italian Consulate and I could only understand about 50% of her English). She gladly accepted the invitation to tell her story.

I strained to understand her but managed to pick out bits and pieces of how she had been to Boston before, but it had been many years ago and her son, who I believe lives here, apparently wasn’t available this morning. Their family had lived in London for a while before coming the first time to America, she mentioned something about her son and husband liking London and working in the factories. She advised me with a smile to stay young and strong, and to stave off getting old for as long as I could.

As we passed my building nearly a mile after beginning our brief journey (I didn’t tell her that we were walking beyond my destination), slowing a bit, becoming a little more expressive with her hands and making more eye contact, she asked me my name again (she had asked earlier on) and said, “Let me tell you a little story.” What I recall leads me to believe that she is part of the Ferragamo family as she recounted how a young Salvatore Ferragamo once made shoes in a tiny box of an apartment and had a steady stream of customers, more than could ever have been expected of a small one-person enterprise. She told me of how he was referred to the queen of England as a shoemaker and became somewhat of a personal footwear provider to the Queen. It was a very interesting story and the way that she told it left me no reason to believe anything other than that it was somehow a real part of her life. I’m not sure if she told me her given name or not – she probably did but it must have been one of the words I just couldn’t hold onto.

As we approached the entrance to the 600 building, I unthinkingly led her over a large steel grate in the sidewalk, and felt a little badly as she dropped back, slowed quite a bit and said out loud that she was scared as she looked down through the grate with each…careful…step…but she was a trooper and made it over. As she headed the last few meters to the building door, she turned, shook my hand and thanking me, said something to the effect of God will be good to you today.

Just minutes before, as we had prepared to cross the final intersection, she said with a big smile and quite obviously with a very grateful heart, something to the effect of “Today I meet angel. Not from out of sky, but from ground. You are angel.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been called an angel before. I know I’ve never met a Ferragamo before…and I have never been more proud to show up to work 10 minutes late.

When I got on the train after having a rather fantastic pre-commute morning, I had no idea that the decision to slow down and share a morning commute with a stranger would make such a big difference for a young lady from thousands of miles away.

I’m glad I decided to take the extra time, to walk the extra block, and to intentionally practice listening and smiling, even when I didn’t understand.

It made my morning to make hers with no chance of her ever paying me back (that I know of)…and I can emphatically say that I’ve been handsomely rewarded throughout the day for it.

Anyone can be an angel for a moment. It doesn’t hurt one bit.

Whose angel will you be?