My moment of grace.

This blog posting is brought to you by the letters WTF?




Take a look at this picture. It was taken from inside my Camry, at the intersection of Scottsdale and Shea, in the midst of a day of errand-running. At the corner is a man, an ordinary-looking guy, sitting in a chair. Ignore the second, standing man - he's not important to this anecdote. Chair-man is holding a sign - the words, which are not visible from this moment's vantage point, read "Honk for A Prayer."

I was at this intersection for a couple of minutes, and watched as the occasional car honked. The prayer man would nod in their direction, lift his hand to the sky, and mouth a benediction. What religion did this man follow? What god, or goddess, was he praying on behalf of? And, most fascinatingly, why did he believe he could make a difference in other people's lives when the thing he does all day... is sit at a traffic intersection holding a sign requesting honks for prayers?

All of these thoughts ran through my head until finally, there at the light just a few feet away from this holy roller, I felt my hand pressing the horn. Just a light tap. I had also just taken a photograph of him, the one you see above, for the sole purpose of discussing it later. He nodded at me and smiled - the benediction was uttered from soundless lips. I was embarrassed that I had made such a personal gesture, of sorts, out in a public place.

I looked up and saw that my fanciful musings had delayed my start-off at the green light. The dark-green sedan to the left of me was already feet ahead, and to my shock, was suddenly broadsided at at least 30 miles an hour by a large pick-up truck. The impact of the collision pushed both vehicles directly into my path... a few feet from where I now sat in open-mouthed shock.

What a day.

I make no presumptions about religion, but it's fair to say that I believe in something, and that something is what I term "g-d." It makes me uncomfortable to even discuss my beliefs with others, because I'm sensitive to the feeling of intrusion, or the old what-I-believe-makes-more-sense routine. I don't play that game. Let's just say that for a moment, I felt... protected. Enconsced in a floaty comforty feeling I didn't have minutes before. And that goes a long way when you're generally plagued by feelings of anxiety about what in the world is going to happen next.

These men on corners, with their signs, and their occasional bombast, and their multicolored promises for a chosen life, or a true path... they're a dime a dozen. Perhaps the gentleman on his folding chair was just supposed to be a witness to my momentary good luck? In the end, who knows.

But as I began to accelerate slightly around the accident scene, making sure both of the men involved were doing OK, I turned to take in the reaction of Prayer Man. He had been gazing at the now-mangled sedan, and glanced up at the same time so that our eyes met - and then he just smiled.