Who Does That?

A couple asked an architect to help them build their home. Happens all the time. But this was Eric Corey Freed, so things went a little differently than usual.

"What's most important to you?" he asked.

They talked about a number of things. Not just the house they had in mind, but their life together. And one of the things that came out in conversation was a special vase. It was something they had had for quite a while, something that held great meaning for them.

So Eric designed their home with a little alcove where--don't ask me how he did this; he's the architect--the light would shine on that vase. On their anniversary.

Okay, say "Awwww."

But here's what I say: Who does that?

Eric does.

* * *

Christmas vacation, my first year in college. I had decided that instead of flying home for the holiday, I'd take the bus. Denver to New York. Sounded like fun.

But in December you can always run into weather. A trip that was supposed to take 40 hours took 53. We were in St. Louis for six of those hours. I'm sure it's a fine town, but by this time I was exhausted and just wanted to be home. I was sitting in the station crying when a guy from the bus came up to me.

"Left hand or right hand?" he asked.

"Leave me alone," I said.

"Left hand or right hand?" he repeated.

"Leave me alone," I said.

He was still standing there.

"Okay," I said, finally. "Left hand."

He handed me an ice cream cone. Turned out he had one in each hand.

I don't remember seeing him on the bus after that, and I've never seen him since. But I've never forgotten him.

Who does that kind of thing for a total stranger?

He did.

* * *

I was running for the bus one night. But it suddenly looked as though the bus had stopped moving. I got on and recognized one of the regular drivers.

"Good to see you!" I said. "I thought I was going to miss the bus for sure."

"I saw you," he said.

Now, we've had a lot of conversations over the years. But I never would have imagined he would hold a bus for me.

Or that a guy would bring a dozen yellow roses to our first date. (I can still see them on my kitchen counter.)

Or that another I'd gone out with only once would call and, learning I had the flu, call back and say, "I'm sorry, did you need chicken soup?" And bring it. With a book to read. And a piece of homemade coffee cake.

Or that one of my friends, knowing I was fretting over what to wear to a wedding,
would come over armed with outfits from her own closet, let me play dress-up, and not only offer a beautiful dress that made me feel like a queen at the wedding, but also compliment some of my own outfits in a way that made me see them differently forevermore.

Who does that? The driver did. Paul did. Jeff did. Jane did.

* * *

I knew a woman years ago. Let's call her "Maureen." She was having some problems in her marriage. I tried to be of support. Mostly, I listened to her. We talked many times--sometimes daily--over the course of a year or so.

One day I got a call: My father had had a heart attack. I jumped on a plane. They couldn't save him, and four days later he was gone. In shock and grief, I called Maureen. She said of course she'd meet me at the airport when I got in.

It was February. Bad weather. One of my flights was delayed. But luckily, we made up the time as we flew.

When I didn't see Maureen at the baggage claim, I found a pay phone (we didn't have cell phones then) and called my number.

"They say that the flight's going to be delayed," Maureen's voice was saying.

I listened.

"So I won't be able to meet you," she said cheerily. "Sorry."

I looked at the phone.

But you know how life is. "We can give you a ride," someone said.

Next thing I knew, I was in a car heading for San Francisco. When I got out, I asked the couple which neighborhood they lived in.

I think it was Sunnyvale. They had just driven north when home was south. To help a stranger.

Who does that?

They did.

So how about you? Who has amazed you, one way or another? Who does that,
in your life?

And what do you do?

©2009 Laynie Tzena.