Fully

This blog entry translates from my back of menu scrawl over dinner alone, this past Sunday evening:

Surrounded by idle teenage chatter, dusty fake plants, marked and scratched furniture and the scents of various Chinese dishes being cooked, served and consumed, I melted into the moment and tried to ignore the empty chair across the table. After a few peaceful minutes spent absorbing "China One's' decor and the swaying autumn trees, soaring birds and strolling people outside, I turned my attention to a giant photograph of the Great Wall of China (a section, anyway) hanging on one wall. After a period of silent observation and contemplation, I decided that although the idea of hopping into the photo and standing amongst the tourists, snapping pics of the Great Wall seems exciting and exotic, the experience at this moment in my life, would seriously lack something. That's because my memories of Chinese history are foggy at best. To appreciate fully the significance and grandeur of the place, I'd have to know (again) the who, where, when, what and how of it. Who lived here, died here, fought here, walked here? Who built this, and how, and with what and why?

This line of thinking snapped me back to where I sat and what surrounded me. I considered then that every place shares this truth - to fully appreciate and enjoy it, you have to know its story. This is true of people, too.

That elderly, stooped lady slowing down a shopping trip may have once sung an opera in front of a sold out crowd, or won medals as a track star. That obese man coming by on his cart might have won his college's championship as MVP. That person in the wheelchair who's clearly lost his mind may once have cured a disease or written a popular screenplay. Would you treat them differently if they had? Would I? Would our respect of their humanity soar, upon knowing their stories? Here's my point: I should care to learn the stories behind the people, and to give each person and place a chance to be fully appreciated and enjoyed. Food for thought, anyway.

By the way, the Kung Po Shrimp was spicy and delightful, in my opinion.

One thing to add (from today, Monday): Today an elderly man paid his bill at my counter, as I stared admiringly at his hat, which bore the words "Purple Heart" on it. I mentioned it to him and he simply said, "That was a long time ago, a very long time." I thanked him for his service and wondered as he walked away, what incredible stories he would probably rather forget, and what ones he'd enjoy sharing.

Thanks for reading, and for humoring my simpleminded discoveries. :) Blessings, V