Today I was on the north side of town in line paying a bill; never expected it to take 30 minutes to pay a bill. I had a carpool line to head to; that and a thousand other things. I saw her from the window of the credit union. It was a cold windy day in Charlotte. She was at the bus stop by herself, sitting in her motorized wheelchair. It looked like a warm wool shawl or blanket draped around her, red and black checked. Her brown skin glistened as the sun shone brightly on this cloudless day. But it was her eyes that I won't forget, nor do I want to forget. Her deep, dark eyes peered through the opening in her checked shawl that covered most of her face, protecting it from the razor like wind. As I finally made my way to my car and began to drive past her, I knew He was speaking. "Stop and wait with her." But what could I do? I'm sure she's waited alone a thousand times; besides I'm already very late for carpool. The rest of the way home, I knew I should have stopped and I should have just turned around except as I travelled home forty miles, the distance stood in my way. As I neared my destination, word came that my daughter had gotten a ride home from school, not because I was late, but just because that was the way it was suppose to be. Now even more, her deep dark eyes penetrate my soul. It wasn't about what I was suppose to do for her; it was possibly about getting a glimpse of Him through unexpected places and people. But I'll never know for sure because this opportunity is gone.
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