Anticipation...

It was a long line and the annoyance of that wait was etched on every ones countenance. No scowls no grumbling just pained annoyance. The cadence of shuffle shuffle stand was broken by the weird guy 5 people forward who sat Indian style and read a book. I had never stood in line an hour before getting a number to officially stand in line. The wait was tedious.

Right behind me stood a slight lady dressed in a hippy skirt and flowing blouse. She asked me to save her spot while she asked the lady at the front of the line for a clipboard. I was mildly concerned about defending her when she got back in line, as I notice a number of people coming from the parking lot to stand behind me. I hadn't saved a spot since grade school, and could vaguely remember the nastiness of children if they've felt wronged.

Practicing the defense in my head, she strolled to the spot behind me and slipped in like she had never left. Her hair was curly wild and all one length, it reminded me of wire. I noticed that there were grey strands woven in with the dark and it surprised me. Her face was unlined and peaceful. Her jewelry didn't match her outfit. It resembled stones or crystals carved in flower patterns. It was pretty none the less.

She asked what I was standing in line for, and when I relayed that I was new to the state and waiting to get my license and register my car, she welcomed me to California and urged me to get a clipboard also with an application. I stepped from line, not as gracefully, but with a mission. I slipped back in line with my mission accomplished, and was delighted with the ease and lack of protest.

Our conversation picked up after we passed the brick wall and eased into the area under the entrance way awning. It's like the shade loosened our tongues, and the closer spot opened us up to accepting that it was better to make the most of the situation. She learned quite a bit about me with a few well timed questions. I realized she was a listener, and if I didn't step up I wouldn't learn anything about her.

She had been living at Berkley. Her masters was in human health and city planning. She pursued it for a year before beginning her holistic healing practice. She had just moved back to the area after a long time away. She was pursuing legal action over property that was in her family. The pain of the situation flashed in her eyes briefly, and I realized that she let me see the flicker. It tried to be gracious and wished her luck.

Finally it was time to get a number and present my carefully prepared applications and paperwork to the keeper of the numbers; to be directed either to the left side of the cavernous room or the right. I didn't have everything I needed and was shown the door. I looked around for my wild haired friend, and she was already herded to the appropriate side. I didn't get a chance to let her know that I appreciated our chat.

It's funny how the small friendly gestures of strangers mean home to me. It's where I fit. In the chinks between the kindnesses. The spaces where the smiling eyes and the gentle words are as natural as the air.