Umbrellas

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Have you ever had one of those days where so many things are frustrating and you're about to give up on people... at least until tomorrow?

Today was one of those days. And then something wonderful happened.


I was waiting for the bus tonight. It was starting to rain, coming down in a fine mist. I enjoy the rain. Many friends and my parents can tell you I enjoy dancing in the rain. There's something emotionally cleansing about it.

A boy, probably about five years of age, and his grandmother came to the bus stop. Both of them had umbrellas. The boy eyed me through his black, thick-framed glasses. He whispered to his grandmother. They started looking at me. As a foreigner, particularly one with light colored hair, I am used to this. I just smiled at them and enjoyed the rain.

More whispering. More staring. There was a bit of umbrella bumping as the boy tried to stand next to his grandmother, I presumed to tell her something. This was getting interesting.

A moment later, the little boy walked over and handed me his umbrella. I was so overwhelmed. I smiled and said thank you and he gave a small smile and walked back to his grandmother. I stood in the rain holding what is quite possibly the ugliest floral umbrella I have ever seen. And then it started to pour. The ugly umbrella became beautiful.

Their bus came and returned the umbrella and they seemed surprised. I almost wonder if they were giving it to me rather than sharing it. We'll never know.

I stood next to a fence under some palm leaves--they did a fairly decent job of shielding me from the rain. I noticed a man and a high school student under a tree with hanging moss, also umbrella-less. Then a woman came over and offered to share her umbrella with me.

The man saw this and ran over to another woman using his brief case as an umbrella. She quickly made room for him. The student stayed under the tree, even when another man arrived holding an umbrella.

The woman's bus arrived and I considered the palm leaves before running towards the new man and gesturing if I could join him. He also was kind enough to share his umbrella with me.

The student stayed under the tree, his sweatshirt pulled over his head to keep him dry. He started to wring out his hair. I wished the umbrella was bigger so we could fit him under it too.

Our bus arrived. Finally. I had been at the bus stop for half an hour. My shoes were soaked. But I was dry. Grateful, I thanked the man and boarded the bus for home.

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