Don’t you just love meeting strangers? They are an entire world of possibilities themselves. They know you not from Eve so their very first impression of your character depends solely on you. They are blank pages waiting to be made into a history book that will be read for centuries. They are alphabets waiting to be strung up into beautiful words that pop off your screen.
Strangers bring out the best and worst in us. Do you give your last pesewa to the wretched stranger who requests for it? Or do you hold your bag tighter and mutter to yourself, “lazy bones”? Do you give the large man walking down the street a wide berth because you have been attacked before? Or do you just walk along your path with your fight-or-flight response inactivated? Do you chat for an hour with the unknown person who called you? Or do you give him a cold shoulder because “they are all MoMo scammers”?
I met a stranger today and I was blessed.
This one did not tell me everything I had ever done. He did not tell me I have had 5 boyfriends and am currently playing three at the same time. He did not heal my 23-year-old infirmity or take away my PTSD with the opposite sex. He did not even attempt to comfort my dying soul with sweet words that mean nothing. He just saw me for who I truly am. He saw me, he knew me, and he loved me.
He was compassionate and he was kind. He took his time to answer my questions. He claims ours was even better than the love-at-first-sight kind of love. He says he loved me in spirit and in truth before he even met me. He told me that all my problems didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that I felt unloved by those who should have loved me most. It didn’t matter that I could not even divorce my abusive husband myself because the Torah made no provision for that. My nonexistent rights as a woman, my basic rights as a human being, my inability to stick to rules… It all did not matter.
I met a stranger today and he changed my life.
I thought I could never be free from my personal struggles with perfectionism and OCD-level obsessions. I thought I could never be free from the societal pressures to conform and metamorphose into the regular girl-next-door. I thought I could never be free from the grips of my filthy desires; these ones that keep me up at night and soak my pillows until I have no recourse but to sleep. I thought I could never be free from school and work and religion and relationships and adulting itself.
I am at the end of my parchment. My ink is done. My quill is broken. My jar of hearts has been broken at his feet. I have no option but to shout from the rooftops: Come and see!
Come and see the man my heart longed for. Come and see the man who brought me back from the brink of death. Come and see the man who never lied to me. Come and see the man who made me believe in myself again. Come and see the stranger who became my everything.
Just come and see!
I am at the end of my parchment. My ink is done. My quill is broken. My jar of hearts has been broken at his feet. I have no option but to shout from the rooftops: #GetUsedToDifferent & Come and see!Tweet
Inspired by Dallas Jenkins and dedicated to the all those whose faith in the impossible have been strengthened by recent life events.
1. Phontina, the woman who met my stranger at the well.
2. Abigail, the venerable leader of KSMD Class of 2020.
3. Eden, Himanshu, Nfomi, Ronard, Ndiilo, Ipsa and Vicky.