It’s raining like the dickens when I emerge , alone today, from the subway into UN Plaza.
Luckily, there is little breeze, and the rain falls nearly straight down during my hour-long stand.
Sharon stands at home today, dry and safe, taking care of herself first, as we must do if we are to enable ourselves to continue our work.
At first I thought I might be nuts to insist on going out in this weather, but I stand for peace at home nearly every morning.
It’s important somehow that I make this public stand. Whether anyone sees me or knows what I’m doing is not so important. I know.
But the rain is mostly soft and gentle, the air clean and fresh. Bird song serenades all round the plaza. Baby birds chirp their joy, it seems, at being alive on this day, and I feel like joining them.
Few of our regulars are here today, only an occasional jogger, and the odd person walking by in shorts and flip-flops for all the world like it’s a gorgeous sunny day.
The homeless who sleep here nearly every night are nowhere to be seen, but the young mom who rushes past with a double-decker stroller and two energetic little boys, usually racing ahead of her, pushes briskly along the sidewalk.
As she has each time we’ve spied her, she wears a long poplin coat, flapping open as she hurries down the street. Her flip-flops splash water up her bare legs and onto her long, long braid, that reaches almost to her knees.
One of the boys is well-dressed, has a professional haircut. The other is dressed more shabbily, his clothes appearing to have been worn by many children, his hair haphazardly cut.
I can’t help wondering about this mom’s story and ask that she has all she needs this day and every day.
Text and image © L Kathryn Grace – All rights reserved