The first day of spring,
March 20, was almost spring-like.
I went grocery shopping.
After heaving the bags into my trunk, I closed it, and prepared to walk around
the car on the driver’s side. But I could not. The door of a black SUV parked
next to me on the left was open and totally blocked my passage.
A young woman, dressed in a red
jacket and red baseball cap, her dark hair pulled back into a long ponytail,
was bent over the back seat, arranging a two year-old boy into his car seat.
She was making a game of it, smiling and chatting away at him. He was giggling.
I was watching.
She buckled him in, her hand
fondly mussing his light brown hair and then, to his obvious delight, she began
a game of catching and kissing each of his fingers.
Any hurry I had in me evaporated.
For there in the ever-moving, careening-cart, super
market parking lot, this young mother had halted. She had ceased whatever rush
she may have felt, to play with her son.
She had no idea that I was
watching, four feet—and a car door—away from them, so intent was she on her
baby.
It wowed me. I could feel their happiness, the web of love
she wove between them as she kissed his tiny fingers. Love all around them, a
private, encompassing sort of light.
I don’t know how long I stood
there, maybe three minutes, when, suddenly, he laughed
out loud and so did I. I couldn’t help myself. But it broke the spell, slanting
into their intimacy like a sharp knife.
Mother and child turned at
once to look at the stranger standing so near. The little boy shot me an
enormous smile.
“What a lovely smile!” I said,
directly to him, wishing I hadn’t laughed and crashed into their time together.
The mother immediately
understood that because her back door was open, I couldn’t get into my car.
Reaching toward her son to settle him, she said to me cheerfully over her
shoulder, “He’s a very smiley little boy.”
She closed the door and allowed
me to pass.
“I can see that!” I
responded, acknowledging her and waving at him as I walked by.
When I turned on the
ignition, a bright-voiced announcer from radio WNYC informed me that not only
was it the first day of spring, but it was also officially Happiness Day!
I’ve never heard of Happiness
Day but it was fine with me.
I was already giddy and full
of gratitude from the vicarious, but exquisite jolt of pure happiness that I
had just witnessed.
