A Stranger Of Mine

This amazing man is a stranger of mine. We crossed each other’s path a while ago and stayed in each other’s life for about 30 seconds. An intricate sequence of events brought that man and I to be at same spot, at the same time, in that fresh morning. It was like a masterpiece of coordination between the universe and us.

We were at the Boston Marathon among hundreds of people and in a glance of a corner I saw the unusual. I was instantly attracted to him and in an inexplicable move I asked for a picture_ Sir, please can I take a picture with you? We did not look at each other eyes and never touched each other hands but he stopped his life for a bit of a fraction and posed with me.

I want to make the whole thing very special. Amused by the fact that this fellow had dressed up with the purpose of calling my attention I will let him know that I liked it. He had the courage to go out with that groovy outfit, crazy enough to open the doors of his personal space to strangers like me.

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I had this desire to spend at least five minutes with every person in the world, I did not spent it with this one but I will treasure our little gathering forever. Now looking at this picture, I like to imagine how his face was when he was just a baby; the happiness of his mother upon bearing him and looking at his eyes for the first time. I like to think that once he was cute and innocent, then he grew older to be a boy, that liked so much to play with friends, liked long walks at the park and had a pounding heart at Christmas mornings.

I visualize him seating in a chair, at the porch, looking at the stars.

I get emotional grasping about the first time he felt in love, and I worry if he ever suffered for that or, if he had his dear heart broken in one way or another…Of course all this is just my fantasy trying to nurture a relationship that never happened.

Forgetting the past, I am wondering if there is hope in his heart, and how is he doing in the present century. I would love to know if he dares to speak to the Lord and if he is able to hear the Lord’s voice back…

Because of the brevity of our encounter, I will never get to know which colors he prefers, what kind of movies he enjoys; what makes him laugh and if I could making him emotional baking a chocolate cake for the special occasion of his birthday.

There is nothing more to this story, this is the strange of my, whose death I will never know about and that never will cry for me when my times to pass will come.

Nice to meet you Mr. Stranger ...I have regretted though, that I had not asked your name.