Hidden miracles surround us each moment, every day and most of the time I believe we miss them, but not when the people who deliver them arrive in color. And so it was on a rather cool winter’s day downtown at a routine appointment that I found myself analyzing a magical moment between myself and a stranger. The office door rang as it swung open and through it entered a slender woman bundled up in her bright red, cashmere coat who carried oranges in her pocket for people that needed them. How did I learn this? Well, apparently I was in need of something I didn’t realize myself that day but would appreciate long afterwards.
I looked at the clock, 12:30pm my appointment running 30 minutes late and I felt tired. Exhausted. Calm. Yet ready to move forwards with my day and out of this office and then everything changed. I looked up to see her looking at the clock rather frantically muttering to herself concerns over the time of day and what she was worried about after this appointment she arrived for. I thought to myself in a moment that passed so briefly, similar to the exchange between frost and fog; invisible yet tangible, she must need the same clinician that I do when her voice carried me back into the present. “Do you work here?” she asked, and again I heard myself thinking that she must really need to see the same person I’m waiting to see …. “No I responded, but are you here for an appointment at noon because the receptionist just went for lunch?” She was indeed wanting the same appointment with the same gentleman and was deeply troubled over his tardiness. She paused then replied, “You look tired. Here have this” and her long slender hand that was marked with age spots, wrinkles, and beautifully trimmed nails reached towards mine with an orange in it. How did she know I had forgotten to eat again? That I was so hungry my head hurt? Was it a distant look in my eyes or the way I was sitting? I really don’t know but in an instant I had a decision to make as to whether or not I should take something from a stranger deep in distress.
After I unraveled the orange, savoring it’s fragrance I knew it would change my day for the better just as I had changed hers by giving her my appointment. The next 45 minutes felt lighter somehow and waiting meant something different to me. I remember a book, ‘Something Beautiful for God’ by Malcom Muggeridge, and in it Mother Theresa sharing that there is a danger in forgetting whom the works for the poor are being done. That one’s heart must be full of a love for Christ so that we can express, in action, our love for God and serve others accordingly. This woman was not poor. Her vibrant jacket, well worn rings of various sizes, and pocket full of oranges assured me of this but she did need help that day and quite honestly, so did I. Was I experiencing a miracle? Was a simple rearrangement of my schedule and my disposition while waiting, in exchange for an orange an extension of the hand of God in both of our lives? Or was it my imagination?
I recall thinking that the cool crisp air of winter felt warmer when I walked back to my car after my session 2 hours later that day. I know my head ache subsided and my appreciation for sweet, citrusy oranges enhanced, but something deep inside shifted as well. My perspective forged by the concern and generosity of a stranger that simply offered me a piece of fruit carved a space in time that suspended itself for my appreciation and in return offering up my appointment seemed less sacrificial, rather an honor and a delight. And so upon returning home I jotted in my notebook titled, “Things to Be Thankful For and Every Day Miracles” my brief yet marvelous encounter with the ‘Orange Lady.’
What a gift and what a treasure in an otherwise ordinary day.