Today I saw an old lady, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and large sunglasses, riding a scooter. You know the kind, two small wheels, a bar in between and handles to steer. We used to ride them when we were younger. Do you remember how much fun it was to to feel the wind on our face as we’re going downhill, or the struggle – and the small victory – when we’re going up and we reach the top? We forgot about them, those scooters gathering dust in our washroom somewhere. And this old lady was riding one, small plastic bag looped around her hand, small steps pushing forward. A smile on her lips – not the “let’s paint a prettier picture” smile. It was there. The sun, emerging radiant after a wet morning, was on her face and the old lady was smiling. Hat flapping a little, bag swaying. She was alone, getting somewhere but in no rush to do so. We drove past her slowly, I only saw her for the seconds it took for me to think, This has to be the sweetest thing I’ve seen all week. And it took a while before I realised why. We are rarely, if ever, lucky enough to see someone being happy. Not looking happy. Not the face which lights up because of some good news or because a wished for gift is received. No, I mean being happy, being in a state of happiness not triggered by anything in particular.
Now, for all I know, this little lady might have received some good news herself before she set off. Maybe she was even just given the scooter and she’s out taking it for a test ride.I don’t know and I frankly don’t care. It was such a pleasure to see her making her untroubled, slow but sure way to wherever she was going, in an apparent state of bliss, that I just want to keep it that way. In my mind.
Because it really was the sweetest thing I saw this week. This little old lady in the wide-brimmed hat, with the wind in her hair and the sun on her face, moving forward with little pushes as cars drive past.
She looked so serene.