Far across the Phoenix terminal CJ spots the blind woman. The woman is trying to get a place in line at the airport Burger King. She's about 45 degrees off course, thwacking her cane into a railing.
"I'll be back in time to board" says CJ
Always quick with a retort, I cleverly respond, "Huh?"
CJ swerves and dodges her way over to the woman and introduces herself. Within seconds they are laughing. CJ assertively secures the woman a place in the line. Together they creep along toward the grill. CJ reads the menu to her.
(Later CJ tells me the woman ordered veggie burgers. Did you know BK has veggie burgers? I didn't. Did you know blind ladies eat veggie burgers? Me either. Anyway, the veggie burger order endeared the woman to me.)
CJ loads the tray, helps her check out, and takes her to the condiment table.
CJ assembles two greasy bags, walks the woman down the terminal corridor to her companion, also blind. The three of them chat a while and share another laugh.
Tiny beads of kindness on CJ's long necklace.
Me? I didn't even notice the blind woman until CJ took off to the rescue. I'm too involved in my own thoughts, worries, plans, the very important stuff I do. Even if I did notice the blind woman across the terminal, I probably wouldn't have thrashed across the the river of travelers to help her.
That's the difference between me and CJ.