It was a typical Tuesday morning, which meant that I inevitably was running late.
I flew out the door, tossed my over-stuffed bag in the car and quickly scrunched my damp curls. As I pulled out of the drive and took off down the street, I made a mental note of all the things I should (but probably wouldn't) accomplish before a new day dawned.
I brought my car to a hurried stop at the end of my street and waited impatiently for an opening in the sudden surge of traffic. As I prepared to join the snaking train of over-caffeinated 9-to-5ers (yes, I just made that a noun...get over it), I saw him approaching the nearby crosswalk and inwardly groaned.
A pedestrian. Naturally.
He was a small man with slow movements. Old but not feeble. A bristly white beard poked out from under his hat as he ambled in front of my car.
Then suddenly, just as I was releasing a small sigh of frustration, he turned towards me with an appreciative grin, tipped his gray hat and continued on his morning stroll.
His face will soon fade from my memory and mine is likely already gone from his. But for a brief moment--a mere blip in our journeys--we allowed each other into our worlds.
And suddenly my to-do list really didn't seem that important.