Reid and I kissed at midnight in Times Square. He was just about to board the bus and leave New York City. We clung tight to each other on the sidewalk as he said a prayer.

We kissed once more and he climbed the steps. The bus door closed. And then the bus started driving away from the now empty theatre. I wouldn’t see him again for almost two months. My heart hurt.

I walked toward the subway station to go back to Astoria where we had been staying for the two weeks Reid had been working at the New Victory Theatre. As I was walking toward the subway entrance, I realized I had to use the bathroom (I have a bladder the size of an acorn). So I veered into the closest place with a public restroom: McDonalds. I walked through the ginormous Mecca for Big Mac lovers to the surprisingly empty bathroom. That is, I thought it was empty. As soon as I entered the stall, I heard a woman’s bodiless voice.

Woman: I like your shoes (I was wearing a pair of black and white captoe ballet flats)

Me: Thank you

Woman: They look comfy.

Me: They are.

Woman: Have you seen Les Miserables (she pronounced the “s” on “Les”)?

Me: I have. The show and the movie.

Woman: I liked the movie better. It was long. I saw it on Christmas.

Me: I love the story.

Woman: There are only two of us still alive out of seven. All of the others have died.

Me: I’m sorry. Death is hard.

Woman: Yeah, it is.

Me: My grandmother is dying.

Woman: Cancer?

Me: No. (Although I’m no stranger to that). She had a stroke.

Woman: I’m sorry.

Me: Me too.

Woman: I had aneurysms. I was checked in to Lenox Hill and they did surgery. I’m a miracle.

 

I flushed the toilet and didn’t hear what she as the rush of water drowned out her next words.

 

Me: I’m grateful for miracles. I hope you continue to heal.

Woman: Thank you.

Me: Have a lovely night.

Woman: God bless.

God bless you, too.  I never saw her face. In fact, I’m not even sure she was all there (mentally, that is). She had no idea Reid had just left and I was feeling sad and low. She had no idea I was heartbroken about my grandmother’s condition. She just wanted to let me know she liked my shoes.

It just goes to show how someone can bless you and you can bless them without ever even laying eyes on each other. Never forget we are always in situations where we can lift someone up just by saying a kind word. So go ahead. Let that person know you like their shoes.