It’s been a while, eh?

I made a little promise to myself. I am my own secretkeeper this time.

Try telling yourself a hope-filled secret and tucking it into your pocket every once in a while.

Not everyone needs to know your business. It’s fun.

Last week I stopped at a red light after exiting the highway. A familiar frequented red light where I look at my phone or check the time. Pull down the visor mirror and inspect for spinach. Quit singing along before the driver next to me starts staring. A simple setting of self-absorption.

To my left, on the gravel of the side of the road, was a woman. Thin build. Average height. Worn jeans. Backpack. Stocking cap with blonde hair poking out behind her ears. Hard living on every thread of her jacket.

My ability to determine someone’s age has evaporated. You are either 18 or 82. Young or old. Apologies to every 40 year old I thought was 60. You are floating in the sea of my middle aged oblivion.

Her smile was timid. A shred of hope in the many lines on her face. Was she my age? Did she have a home? Did she have a Mom? Where had those boots taken her? How many places had she been to that she wasn’t a willing passenger? My mind hummed. There was no sign asking for help. No sad story scrawled out on cardboard. She spoke with her smile.

I smiled in reflex, rolled down my window, and gave her a hearty South City hello.

The shred of hope met my eyes.

I didn’t have any cash. I glanced back at the light. Still red.

I looked over at my empty passenger seat. There sat my on-the-go snack. A perfect Pink Lady apple. They are ambrosia. Crisp and sweet.

Do you like apples, I asked.

I do, she said, taking the apple from my outstretched hand. Thank you, she said.

Stay warm, I said, the snowstorm is coming.

I will, she said.

I looked back at the light. It was green. I smiled back at her.

She waved and I drove on through the intersection.

Would she be there the next time I stopped at that light? Would she stay warm? Would life give her a break?

I don’t know.

But I do know that she gave me something to smile about.

Thank you, pink lady.