Lunch

A woman sat down at the table next to me at Subway. There was nothing outstanding about her. She was fairly young. Not unattractive, but not especially pretty. She was happy, though. I watched as she unfolded the paper cradling her sub. She opened her potato chips and poured them on the flattened wrapping. Then she closed her eyes and turned her palms upward to the ceiling and rested them on the table. She flashed a subtle smile for a moment, then opened her eyes and picked up her sandwich.

I turned my concentration to my own sub and considered what she was praying for. To whom was she praying? Was it thanksgiving for a love returned home from afar? Or was it something simpler? Was she just happy to be alive? Or does she love onions? I love onions. And roasted red peppers. Perhaps she was sending me good vibes so I could find peace. I know it was more than just thanking God for the food. She totally made my day without her even knowing.

Bon appetit!