KINDNESS OF STRANGERS

KINDNESS OF STRANGERS

At Dulles Airport so many friendly travelers,
Curious to know our story, where we're headed, where we're from,
A grandmotherly type, a Dr. Ruth lookalike,
Headed for a wedding in Paris, with a stopover in Dublin,
Anxious for a pub crawl and a night of harmless fun.

I was brought to this place in a wheelchair,
By a kind and attentive man,
My stutter he seemed to understand,
I'm hoping he's paid well for his time,
Putting folks at ease,
With extra points for interpreting.
My broken Parkinsonese.
His humming and good humor
Make me less self-conscious,
Make the trip a zip, bordering on burdenless.

Then when I try to stand to walk to the boarding area,
I find myself starting to fall,
A young man from India comes to my rescue,
A man I've never met at all.
He takes my hand in his and guides me by the arm,
Leads me to the entrance of the plane,
With a kind of old world charm.
His concern it seems instinctual, like something born and bred,
Something drilled into him long ago, or from some chivalrous book he read,
And memorized each page, at a very tender age.

Where once I would have shunned the help,
With a motherlode of protestation,
I'm now at the stage where I disavow the dangers,
And have come to believe in the kindness of strangers.
It rings in my ears, seems ever so true,
The kindness of strangers, the kindness of you.

Then when we touch down in Ireland, 
A young and amiable college student
Pilots me in my wheelchair.
Past the point of teenage cool,
He asks my partner where he's going, what's his itinerary,
Leads me right to the baggage carousel,
Then to the money exchange machine.
It is there that we part with a prayer in my heart,
And an Irish blessing for this kind young man,
For my partner who loves me and understands,
Shouldering all of our luggage,
My needs and limitations as a traveler in a strange land.

The scene replays over and over, on our way back home,
A red headed Irishman who spoke to nearly everyone,
While piloting my wheelchair through the Dublin airport,
Lively and delightful, ever the good sport.
Back at Dulles the same royal treatment, 
This web of kindness weaved,
So much so that I believe,
I've arrived at the stage where I disavow the danger,
Put all my trust in the kindness of strangers,
It rings in my ears, seems ever so true,
The kindness of strangers, the kindness of you.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2015
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED