Listen

It started at a full-day-long tournament when a little one grabbed the opportunity to ask for a story about her when she was a baby. I listened to her request and did my best to settle into storytelling despite the drizzle and hard ground. The next request was for a story about brothers and then for an imaginary story.  To be honest, it was raining slowly when we started but the rain did motivate me to create a moat around the castle-home. Eventually, it was running down our backs and cheeks, but she smiled, listening intently, not one bit worried about the storm overhead.

The next day, it happened at an appointment with the requisite waiting room experience. An older-than-me gentleman started talking and I listened to his thoughts on the Mets. For the record, I know little about the Mets beyond their stadium in Queens.  After he was called into the exam area, his wife (I assume) came back to thank me for making the nervous wait easier. I smiled thinking, perhaps, my listening to him gave her time to prepare for whatever storms lie ahead.

Days later, it happened when visiting a friend whose life was changing before her eyes as she packed up a lifetime of memories and tried to hold on to a semblance of normalcy as a giant-storm changed the trajectory of her life. She listened intently as I shared what had been happening in her absence. I listened as she talked about frustrations, fears, and unlikely solutions to the storm washing away her own dreams. 

The real-life rain storm outside was slowly abating as I left, leaving the dumpster as well as the street glistening and me deep in thought about how listening makes all the storms of life a wee bit better.