Just a look

This past week I drove through the ghetto on the way to my daughter's house. Her new digs are on the other side of a rough section of town. It's not unusual to see homeless people hanging outside one of the Mom and Pop grocery stores that line this section of her street. Not unusual to see women walking the sidewalks in very high heels and very short skirts... even during the middle of the day.

It had been raining. Alot. In our town if it rains for 30 minutes and it's high tide, lots of streets flood. And so my daughter's street, with several low spots anyway, was flooded. Up to the door handles of my car.

I took several side streets and came back to the main street where I knew the ground was higher and I found myself at a corner at a stop light. Then I saw her. And she saw me.

There have been only a few occasions in my life when I've met someone and had an instant connection. In the nursery of the hospital where I work I held a baby who's mother had given him up for adoption. He lifted his head and stared right inside of me and I called my husband to tell him I was bringing this child home. (I didn't..couldn't... but if I were single......) I met my best friend when she was lost and knocked on the door of my husband's business. We were fast friends immediately. And my friend Hendrien from Holland- that's how we all know her- and I sat next to each other one day at the beach while we watched the Space Shuttle take off 45 miles away and have remained great friends for 27 years.

But I was stunned this week when I turned my head and saw a woman, very unlike myself, that I felt I already knew. She wore a short red dress and stiletto heels not meant for walking. She was standing in front of a lake of water.

She stared back. I don't know what she saw when she looked at me. An older, overweight white lady, probably lost in a part of town that white, middle class women don't visit? Someone driving when she had to walk? A lady who could afford nice clothes and a nice house to drive home to? I briefly thought, "I live a life she couldn't imagine living."

And what did I see? A girl trying to make a living. A woman trying to cross a lake of water. A prostitute who might be on drugs. But the look in her eyes, the soul I thought I saw, will haunt me.

I should have stopped my car and offered this woman a ride. If she needed help to get out of the life I thought she was in, I should have offered it to her. Based on nothing more than a poignant glance, I was ready to change my life and maybe hers. In a blink of an eye I thought I might be able to help.

I knew this person. She could be me.

Then the light changed and I drove through the intersection slowly. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw my missed friend get into a man's car. And drive away.