Lost and Found

I hold my hand out behind me and the lady in the yellow sweater reaches out to cradle it. Her touch sends a wave of warmth through my body and as she holds me tighter, I can feel the rough calluses on her palms. Everyone is crouched down in the aisle of the bus, waiting for the masked men to take what they want and leave. Minutes feel like hours. My mind is racing with thoughts of fear so I try to calm myself by focusing on her breathing, which is strong and steady. To her, these men are merely an annoyance, like pesky flies that won’t leave. They yell and wave their pistol around recklessly, but she remains calm and cool. She has nothing to give except a few small belongings and a heavy blanket. The lady in the yellow sweater doesn’t need a knife or a gun for self-defense. Her eyes are her weapons and they seem to burn through the masks of the men who are robbing us. She is a warrior, and in the midst of fear and uncertainty she makes me feel safe.

When the masked men finally leave, the whole bus begins to breath again and the lady in the yellow sweater helps me to my feet. I turn to face her but I cannot find the words to express my gratitude. Although we do not speak the same language, our eyes can read each other and she flashes me a knowing smile. I melt into her outstretched arms and she hugs me the way a mother hugs her child. She is not much taller than me but her sturdy build and hearty waistline make her a brick next to my petite body of straw. Her embrace is comforting but does not linger as she quickly pushes me back to arms length and inspects me. I know nothing about this stranger who held my hand and wiped away my tears, yet she is treating me like family. The hole in the bus window that the gunman’s warning fire had left is giving passage to the cool night air and I begin to rub my legs for warmth. Motioning me to sit down beside her, the lady in the yellow sweater slowly eases back into the seat and puts her blanket on top of my legs.

I spend the remainder of the bus ride deep in thought as my guardian angel continues to watch over me. It is not so much the robbery, but the compassion and kindness that leaves me in a daze. All I can think about is how thankful I am and how much I want to help other people in need. I never see the lady in the yellow sweater again, but not a bus ride goes by that I don’t think about her.