With the election season upon us the airways and mailboxes are inundated with sound bytes from candidates wanting our votes. Most office seekers will contend they are uniquely qualified to lead and motivate the rest of us. The older I get, the less I am swayed by the words from politicians, but I'm more moved by the actions of the "everyday" people I observe around me.
A recent example occurred while driving my Metro bus through the Rainier Valley. Filled with passengers from diverse cultures speaking in their native tongues, I was in linguistics' paradise driving my bus, which may as well have been headed for the United Nations.
The soothing din emanating from the coach came to an abrupt halt when a disheveled, young man boarded the bus.
"Hey, driver where is this bus going?" he barked as he proceeded to hunker down.
This was telltale sign I was in store for an eventful ride. Unlike most passengers with Ipods, this want-to-be "American Idol" sang along with his music. In deference to the other riders, and for the general principle of good taste (he couldn't hold a note), I told him he would have to lower his voice.
"Whatever," he sneered.
I was cautiously optimistic this would be the extent of my intervention. No such luck. Again, I had to remind Singing Psycho to lower his voice.
Realizing this was just going to be one of those challenging days, I expected more incidents were likely to occur. Sure enough, at the next stop I had a man in a wheelchair to load. Unaccustomed to having such riders, I had to trial-and-error my way through getting the wheelchair lift to operate. On cue, Prince Sunshine was impatient with the delay and not bashful in providing colorful commentary regarding my ineptness.
I finally got the latest addition to the bus strapped in and bumbled my way through retracting the lift. Once we were back on the road I noticed that there was a lull in the commotion. The bus malcontent struck up a conversation with the gentleman in the wheelchair.
"Hey what happened to you?" The disabled man then responded with a long and heart- wrenching story about how he once had a job and a family, but that all fell apart when he became stricken with multiple sclerosis.
A tsunami- size change began taking place with this young man. His tone of voice had softened and he seemed genuinely saddened by the wheelchair-bound man's unfortunate circumstances.
"I'm not very religious, but I am going to pray that you walk again," he said with conviction.
As my bus reached downtown, I again grappled with the wheelchair lift. I was then pleasantly surprised as this young man unbuckled his new friend's wheelchair straps and then helped escort him off the bus. As the young man passed by me he even said, "thank you driver."
Like a scene out of sappy movie, dawn gave way as the rising sun spotlighted these downtrodden souls strolling down Fourth Avenue. I found myself touched by the random connection that took place between these two strangers.
Even more gratifying was observing the wayward young man's transformation from a mouthy malcontent into the consummate gentleman.
I suspect no politician's speech could have inspired this 20-something in comparison to how he felt connecting with another human being.
These ubiquitous, chance encounters can have the potential for life-changing opportunities.
When we rejoice in our blessed circumstances, and take note of our surroundings, we then become the hope for change.
Central Area writer Joe Kadushin may be reached may be reached at this link.
