Train Ride

I'm pretty sure I am still 16 in this photo, based on the sweater Melanie is wearing, because this picture was taken in New Jersey, and I was there in March of '77 and late May of '77, and this sweater would have been too heavy for late May. The date on the back is June 1977, stamped when the prints were developed.

I was very embarrassed to smile with my teeth showing at that age, because my teeth were so crooked. I was desperately trying to navigate a grownup world, still very much a child, and a parent to boot.

I am fairly certain this is what I looked like, and what Melanie looked like when we got on a train in Indiana bound for New Jersey.

That trip has stayed with me all of my life so far. I was very scared, and somewhat traumatized when I got on that train in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I had very little money, diapers, and a couple changes of clothes for me and for Melanie.

I spent most of the night in the ladies lounge attached to the bathroom (they had those in 1977 on trains) because whenever Melanie cried or fussed the other passengers in coach yelled at me.

In the morning, I was trying to go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face after changing Melanie, and an old woman offered to hold Melanie so that I could have two hands. I thanked her and took her up on her offer. She told me that she wasn't sure if she should offer, because she knew some white people wouldn't want a black woman to touch their baby. She risked rebuke to be kind, and I have never forgotten that. Melanie loved her, and we spent a few minutes together in that lounge before going back to our respective seats.

The train was delayed multiple times, and the snack bar was running out of everything. I was standing in line to get milk for a bottle for Melanie, and I heard the counter staff tell a patron they were sold out of milk. He then caught my eye, letting me know to stay in line. When it was my turn, he made it a point to tell me that he had put all the remaining milk aside, and marked it paid to save it for the baby. Again, a stranger risking rebuke to take care of me and my baby.

Why am I telling this story today? Because I need to remind myself, and maybe you need a reminder too, that the kindness of strangers can be transformative. You may be the stranger who offers kindness, or you may be the stranger that needs kindness, we all take turns with which side we are on.

But kindness matters. Those strangers protected and helped me at one of the most vulnerable times in my life. They will never know how many times over the years I have prayed for them and thanked God for them.

That 16 year old mother on that train could have never imagined all that has happened since, neither the good or the bad. She was not sure of anything.

This 64 year old knows just how much she can survive because she has. And so much of what has enabled me to survive and at times to thrive has been kindness, kindness of family,  kindness of friends, kindness of strangers.

I still don't know the future. But the kindness shown to me in the past convinces me that I have a job to do today and every day. Make the world a kinder, gentler place every chance I get.