Standing at the bus stop, appreciating the invigorating wind shower even as the pewter gray clouds held promises of more rain, across the street, I noticed as a group of four exited their home— recognizing one as a member of the family whose Thai takeout place I sometimes patronized.
The adult in the party and the two youngest ones were towards the front. Of that trio, one was a girl who looked to be around 12 years of age, and the other was a smiling boy who looked around 7 or 8. Bringing up the rear, several paces behind, was a tall girl— the one I had recognized as attending to me a few times in the restaurant. She struck me as being around 15 or so.
I saw when the young boy noticed the older girl was farther behind. And then, interspersed through a series of backward glances, as though testing the waters, I watched him initiate a few lines of conversation, before finally committing to the decision to slow down so he could walk with her.
His actions struck me— said something to me about the boy and about his relationship with the girl. As did the companionable way in which they continued the rest of the journey together. His actions made me think of trust and caring and love and what it meant as a child in a grouping of people to make the decision to walk alongside the person you wanted to spend more time with.
And then, his actions made me think of what it felt like to be welcomed.