The little girl of six or seven trotted jauntily alongside a stroller and a mom, proudly bearing aloft a small bouquet of purple flowers for Shabbos. She turned her sunny face toward mine for the briefest moment and lit up my day.
It's midday on Erev Shabbos and the streets are teeming with young ones coming home from school, people of all sizes running errands, so busy with much to do yet simultaneously beginning to relax because the week is ending and Shabbos is coming. The snow and ice are finally melting and I suddenly realize that Brooklyn is much more likeable on foot, in the sun, when people have faces and aren't just huddled projectiles dashing in front of my car.
The little girl's smile is still in my heart for the next few blocks and it seems like all is right with the world. As I near my destination I am nearly hit head-on by a young woman intent on her smartphone. Somehow it seems she is missing the point. I ascend into the subway as she exits into a vibrant world she will probably never see. Maybe someone will bring her purple flowers for Shabbos, too.
It's midday on Erev Shabbos and the streets are teeming with young ones coming home from school, people of all sizes running errands, so busy with much to do yet simultaneously beginning to relax because the week is ending and Shabbos is coming. The snow and ice are finally melting and I suddenly realize that Brooklyn is much more likeable on foot, in the sun, when people have faces and aren't just huddled projectiles dashing in front of my car.
The little girl's smile is still in my heart for the next few blocks and it seems like all is right with the world. As I near my destination I am nearly hit head-on by a young woman intent on her smartphone. Somehow it seems she is missing the point. I ascend into the subway as she exits into a vibrant world she will probably never see. Maybe someone will bring her purple flowers for Shabbos, too.
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