First of all, let me apologize for not posting anything this summer. This summer's job involves a lot of writing and staring at a compute screen and, quite frankly, when I get off I don't even want to see a computer for the rest of the day. However, tonight as I was riding back to my apartment on the metro I saw something that I felt I needed to share.
The metro is the lifeblood of D.C., taking people from home to work, back again, and to all points around the city. You quickly learn the system and become a pro at navigating the various lines to get from point A to point B in the shortest amount of time. You and the other riders become cogs in a giant machine. Nameless, faceless, lifeless.
Tonight, however, I was not caught up in the frantic commute and actually took the time to acknowledge that I was sharing a tiny metal car with countless other lives. It was at that moment that I saw them. A dad carrying his little girl on his back as we exited the car. They must have been in the car behind me because I did not notice them at all during the ride. What initially caught my eye about the pair was that the little girl, probably around 10 years old, was completely bald from chemo-treatments. As I watched the dad and his little girl walking through the station in front of me, I noticed that the dad, too, was bald. However, his baldness wasn't due to age or health. The top of his head was whiter than his face and neck, and bore the telltale razor bumps of a freshly shorn scalp. Immediately, it clicked - "he shaved his head for her."
This brief encounter was an amazing picture of love in the midst of a city that is all too often cynical and self-centered. As we go about our lives and daily commutes, we often lose sight of the fact that everyone around us has their own unique story and struggles. It's nice to take the time every once and a while to stop and think about the complete strangers that pass through our lives while waiting for the doors to open.
