Encounters

I attended a ladies retreat this weekend. The organizers included a survey in the packet they gave us. One of the questions was, "What was the highlight of the retreat for you?" I left that question blank. Sharing the scene that popped into my mind would have been of no value in planning future retreats.

It happened in the morning, before the day's activities started. Morning is my "quiet time". I dressed early and, leaving my roommates behind, slipped down to the lobby with my book bag. As people started gathering for the day's activities, I left behind my initial resting place on a sofa in a hall and looked for someplace further from the beaten path.

At the back of the lobby, I found a cozy cluster of unoccupied furniture and settled in once again on the sofa there. A few minutes later, a black man in work clothes, maybe 30 years old, settled into the chair across from me with a cup of coffee. I greeted him with a smile and turned back to my books. I was enjoying what I was doing, but also very aware of my surroundings. I occasionally glanced up and took in the activity around me. I noticed that the man lit a cigarette. Coffee and tobacco. Neither are a part of my life, but I don't particularly mind the smell of either when they're fresh. However, in this case, the hotel circulation system did a good job providing clean air for me and I didn't notice the odor.

A mother and daughter with matching blond curls approached our area. The mother was talking and as she came close enough for me to hear her words, she expressed relief at finding a place to smoke. The man assured her that he didn't mind but wasn't sure about me. He indicated that he had been watching me. I found that interesting since I hadn't observed him observing me while I was observing him. I wasn't sure what information he had gathered in his observation, but apparently he had decided I didn't smoke. I greeted the newcomers and let them know that the smoke wasn't bothering me. The mother took the other chair in the area and told her daughter, who was maybe six, to sit with me on the couch, away from the smoke. I smiled and welcomed her and her teddy bear to the "non-smoking section".

The bear was clad in a wedding dress and as we admired her, the little girl noticed that she had spilled some of her chocolate milk on the dress. For reasons I won't go into, I had a mansize handkerchief in my pocket. I pulled it out and dabbed at the milk, but suggested to the girl that she would need to use water on it. She carefully set down her lidded cup of milk on the coffee table and reached out to take my handkerchief. Before I realized what she had in mind, she showed me a trick that she later explained her daddy had showed her the night before when she dropped some food on her dress. She puckered up a bit of the hanky and wet it with saliva before applying it to the bear's dress again. I suspected that her mother would not be thrilled with the idea of her putting a hanky from a stranger's pocket in her mouth. When she did it a second time, I started trying to think of a way to reclaim my hanky without making a scene. I glanced over to where Mom was sharing her views on smoking with the man: "My Uncle Joe smoked and my cousins smoked . . ." Her curiosity was roused and the little girl carried the bear (and my hanky) over to her mother. I waited to see if she would continue the spit bath and whether the mother would go ballistic, but they simply discussed the nature and source of the stain and then the girl returned to me. I quickly reclaimed my hanky. A little later the girl asked me if she had given back my "towel". I assured her that she had.

Mom shared with me that the little girl was the flower girl for a wedding that day. I turned back to my companion and asked if she had practiced the night before. She had.

It was time for me to go. As I got up I explained that I had been retreating from my retreat and needed to return. Both the man and woman smiled and I was pleased that my little joke amused them. As I walked away, the mother was telling the man about the ring bearer in the wedding.

And that was the highlight of the retreat for me: Sharing a pleasant few moments with strangers, strangers to me and to each other; smiling at smokers; seeing them as people instead of as smokers; making them smile; having a serious conversation with a charming flower girl; being reminded of "spit baths".

I don't spend a lot of time in hotel lobbies and don't often find such pleasant companions when I do. It was a nice contrast to the more structured and proper atmosphere of the retreat.