The traffic light was green, but the pedestrian signal said "Do Not Walk." As I debated whether or not to cross (sometimes the goody-good in me is unshakeable), a tall black man approached behind me, mumbling something. As he got to the corner, this tower of a man greeted me with a clear, "good morning sweetie," and stepped into the crosswalk.
I decided to join him, figuring if anyone could stop traffic it would be this guy, so I took full advantage of the situation. Whew! We made it. His mumbling, it turned out, was a low humming melody, most likely improvised as the lyrics didn't seem defined, just varying notes and an occasional "Jesus."
His stroll and my march ended up being about the same pace, so we walked together to the next corner and as we neared the second "Do Not Walk," I waited to see what the plan would be. He stepped into the crosswalk, and I again followed along beside him. Now we were true partners in crime, fellow jaywalkers along Ocean Boulevard, marching and strolling and singing about Jesus.
The sidewalk thinned and up ahead was a woman and her dog, who both seemed unaware that others might be traveling on the same thoroughfare. My friend and I slowed to a stop until the woman realized she and her pup were in our way. "Excuse us," I asserted with a smile, and she moved apologizing for her indecisive doggy.
We continued together until we reached the mini-market. He stopped and asked if I wanted a drink. I politely said, "No, thank you," and he went into the store. Other than the "good morning sweetie," these were the only words exchanged.
But there was an unspoken friendship formed in those few blocks. It made me realize that people come in and out of our lives at different times, for different reasons. And the length of time we know someone does not diminish their significance in our journey. Sometimes you have acquaintances for years, other times a best friend for only a few months. And sometimes you meet a stranger on the street, from a seemingly different walk of life, who walks beside you with a serenade on your way to work.
People come and go. We ebb and flow through closeness and distance. The trick is to enjoy the company while it lasts.
