La la la

I was at Panera yesterday and a woman reached across me to grab some coffee stirrers for her coffee. I never would have noticed, except as she reached across, I heard that she was singing lightly under her breath. And she wasn't singing anything in particular. She merely sang "La la la."

At first I thought she was crazy. Then, the more I thought about it, the more enamoured I was with her singing. It softened this stranger to me. I saw this 50 year old woman who looked quite aged and rough around the edges, and yet I saw her as a soft person. I recognized the humanity in this stranger and empathized with her. I did not feel sorry for her, I did not feel happy for her, I merely felt that she was a human being. I felt that there were things in her life to sing about. It was more than I could say about anyone else in Panera.

It might not sound all that remarkable at first, but the whole restaurant was full of people-so full in fact that we couldn't find a seat at first-and not one person made an impression on me save the lady who sang "La la la." She was the only person I noticed there, and now, she is the only person there who's face I remember. They took no note of me, I took no note of them. We passed each other as we would pass so many trees in a wood.

This woman however, she was like a tree that had come to life. I liked that.

La la la.