Heart and Soul

The photos included in this post have absolutely nothing to do with the post's content. Nothing.

I like to think of myself as something of an amateur photographer, though, and Leah's my favorite subject.....so I have lots of pictures I like to share. Enjoy.

Once a week I have a “Mommy Day.” I visit with my accountability partner in the morning, and then head to Atlanta Bread Company for lunch (by myself – hurray!) and some writing. It’s wonderful.

There is a man I see every week. He works at ABC, straightening up the lobby and dining room area, clearing people’s tables as they finish, and enthusiastically greeting everyone who comes in. He is a very nice man; aside from the work he does in the restaurant, though, I knew nothing about him.

Until today.

As I type this, I’m sitting in my usual booth in the back corner. The nice man is chatting passionately with a girl two tables over, and it is clear to me that the subject of their conversation is very important to him. He’s telling her about different Native American Indian tribes and the injustices done to them. He’s passionate about it. His hands gesture and his face expresses more emotion than I would have expected from him on this – or really, any – subject.

See, I have to confess that I judged him. Because of the work that he does, I assumed that he was, somehow, of lesser intelligence. I assumed that about him, knowing virtually nothing of him. I figured – in my upper middle class Caucasian way – that he was doing this job because there was nothing else for him. Listening to him, though, I realize how far off base I was in my assumptions. His monologue – which it really is, because his enthusiasm for the subject doesn’t allow anyone else to really participate in the discussion – digs up facts from my United States history classes that had disappeared into the recesses of my mind. He brings up names and events from history as though he read of them in today’s paper. He loves this subject, and knows more than most anyone else about it. That much has become clear.

So today, when I leave my warm booth in the corner, I will know more about this nice man. I do not know his name, because my eyesight is poor and I cannot read his nametag, and I do now know his story. I know more about him, though. I know of his passion, and I know something of what consumes him. And through that simple fact, I’ve learned (or relearned) a very important lesson.

No one is as they seem. Everyone has a passion. An interest. A story. There is a lot more to people than you could ever know by looking at their faces. There is a life behind every pair of eyes you’ll see today, and a heart and a soul that longs to be expressed.

I’ve learned that today, and I hope the lesson sticks with me. I’m challenging myself – and you, too, if you’ll let me – to reach out and try to uncover some of what hides under the surface. Even the most closed of people has something they long to tell if given the opportunity.