Impromptu Magic

Five strangers and a crowded bus.

Impromptu Magic

The bus was full.  Every seat was occupied.  The luggage racks appeared to be over-loaded.  There were people standing in the aisle.  Then, out of the corner of my right eye, I noticed a wheel chair being pushed toward the front door of our crammed shuttle.

A white-haired man had rolled up. He was sitting in an airport courtesy chair and I watched as an airport attendant slowly positioned him close to the open door.  Once stopped, his snow-topped wife, who was standing to his side, made a labored step up and forward.  That single step turned out to be much more than a simple step.  It was an inaudible signal of impromptu magic.

Three young men launched from their seats in active greeting.  One reached for her hand and gently guided her to his former seat.  Another rushed past her to collect the couple’s luggage, while the third showed the skills of a Las Vegas card dealer as he shuffled already stacked bags into a position to accommodate her husband and their added baggage.  Space that wasn’t there moments before seemed to wondrously appear.  I was watching the magic of human kindness.

“Have you come home?”  One of the strangers asked once everyone and everything was settled.

“This is our first leg.”  The seasoned women responded.  “We still need to drive to our home in Rexburg.”

“We’ve been in Austin visiting our daughter.”  Her husband continued.  “Austin is a beautiful city.  But, we’re glad to be home.  We’ve been married and living there for sixty years.  Now, we’re starting our next sixty together!”

His wife sighed a little and showed signs of a faint smile as he was speaking.  She sat quietly, while the rest of her body told the tale of her exhaustion, as the conversation continued past the first stop and on to the next.  The next stop ended the talking and was more boisterous.

The white-haired man used his two walking sticks to stand. He was sitting in an airport parking shuttle and I watched as he and his wife slowly positioned themselves close to the opening door.  Once stopped, his snow-topped wife, who was standing to his side, made an assisted, labored step down and forward.  That single step turned out to be more than a simple step.  It was an inaudible signal.

The same three young men launched into active support.  One reached for her hand and gently guided her until her feet safely reached the parking lot asphalt.  Another rushed past her to collect the couple’s luggage, while the third showed the skills of a Las Vegas card dealer as he shuffled their already stacked bags into a position to leave the bus.  The space they had occupied, space that wasn’t there moments before seemed to wondrously glow as a result of their impromptu magic; the magic of human kindness.