Assumptions

The first time I saw her walk by, the only thing I noticed about her was the bright red lipstick.



Steve and I were in the 30th St. Station in Philly waiting for the train going back to Lancaster. We were killing time, looking through magazines in the news stand.



She was only about 11 or 12 and very skinny as young girls that age can frequently be before they start to fill out. But her lips were the brilliant red of a young woman twice her age. The red stood out even brighter against the milk-chocolate brown of her skin. My assumption was that her mom and dad weren't paying enough attention, letting her color her lips such a startling and bright red.



Even though I wouldn't have let my own daughters use lipstick like that at her age, to have this reaction caught me by surprise. It seemed so judgmental and narrow. But there it was.



Her dad....I'm positive it was her dad....was following closely behind her, his hand on her shoulder. I only saw him from the back, that first time they passed by, not noticing his face as my attention was captured and focused only on hers.



The second time they walked by, though, I got an entirely different picture. They were walking towards us and this time I noticed her dad's face and could see that he was blind. She was walking slowly enough, and patiently enough, that he could follow easily while he held on to her collar. The two of them seemed so comfortable together, walking slowly and talking quietly as they moved acoss the store.



The last time I saw them, out in the main part of the station, the rest of the family was with them as well. This time, the dad was holding his wife's shoulder as she was leading him. But you'd never know that he was handicapped and that she was leading him unless you were looking closely. It was such an easy and natural connection. One of them had said something funny and the man was laughing....a big, wide, open-mouthed laugh. The woman, the mom, caramel-colored and beautiful, was laughing too, sometimes lightly touching his chest for emphasis. I don't know how you can tell these things, but just from the ease and softness of her touch on him, you could see how much she loved and respected him. It was a beautiful connection to see.



Just the two of them formed a wonderful picture, but to make the picture even more lovely and poignant, three little girls were following behind, the young lady with the bright lips leading the way for her two younger sisters. All of the girls were laughing and skip-hopping along....totally free and happy. There was such a carefree and easy way with which each of them moved. It was the most touching of family scenes even though all they were doing was moving from one place to another.



An interesting thing had happened though. My perspective had completely shifted and this time when I saw them I didn't even see the lipstick on the oldest daughter. All I saw, and felt, was the happiness radiating from this family, moving so easily through the train station.