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< | Given that Nona's paper is about her walk to school, it is impossible for me to express, far less modify, her own attachments to the journey. Thus, I decided to go on a walk myself -- treading her path once and then once more. I must admit that I had no music (it was sunny outside and some birds could be heard over the sounds of traffic) and the want of David Byrne may have reduced the value of my walk. But I do not think so. | >
> | Given that Nona's paper is about her walk to school, it is impossible for me to express, far less modify, her own attachments to the journey. Thus, I decided to go on a walk myself -- treading her path once and then once more. I must admit that I had no music (it was sunny outside and some birds could be heard over the sound of traffic) and the want of David Byrne might have reduced the value of my walk. But I doubt it. In any case, I went on Nona's walk. | | | | |
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< | I saw the middle-aged cross guard lady who yells at Nona every morning. My identification was confirmed when I saw her in action, yelling at another rule-breaking pedestrian! And just as I was thinking about how frustrating a job as hers must be, she surprised me by smiling cheerfully at the pedestrians crossing west. And as if that were not sufficient to mark her disposition, she then (playfully) yelled at one of the drivers who had stopped a little too far beyond the cross-line. She said that following rules is difficult for "people from New Jersey!" [that was where the car was from]. And thus, began my editor's walk. | >
> | I saw the middle-aged cross guard lady who yells at Nona every morning. My identification was confirmed when I saw her in action, yelling at another rule-breaking pedestrian! And just as I was thinking about how frustrating a job as hers must be, she surprised me by smiling cheerfully at the pedestrians crossing west. As if that were not sufficient to mark her disposition, she then (playfully) yelled at one of the drivers who had stopped a little too far beyond the cross-line. According to her, following traffic rules has always been difficult for "people from New Jersey [which was where the car was from]!" I wanted to observe this woman for a little longer, maybe ask her about her work. But she gave me that look which reminded me that I better be moving ahead. | | | | |
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< | Sadly, the vendors in carts had no affinity for me (I am a faithful purchaser from a cart that stands on Broadway and 111th). But, walking Nona's walk, I smiled at each of them. I New York City is not a place for smiles. In fact, each time I see a person walking on the street like it were doomsday, I smile at them. Very few smile back, most are surprised. But you can never go wrong when you smile to a child. Anyways, that small rate of success keeps me going. | >
> | Sadly, the vendors in carts had no affinity for me (I am a faithful purchaser from a cart that stands on Broadway and 111th). But, walking Nona's walk, I smiled at each of them. New York City is not a place for smiles. In fact, each time I see a person walking on the street like it were doomsday, I smile at them. Very few smile back, most are surprised, some even afraid. But you can never go wrong when you smile to a child. Anyways, that small rate of success keeps me going. | | | | |
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< | Just below the church steps, a man wheeled his immobile wife, and happily so. Whether or not this is the same couple that Nona speaks of, it gave the cathedral a new look of grandeur. It seemed more humble, more like a place that real people inhabit, rather than a majestic display of religion's glory (or wealth). Having attended chapel six days a week for more than ten years, I cannot help but reminisce about my childhood -- the walk up to the altar steps, the bow, the placement before the podium, the opening of the sacred book, the opening line: "Today's reading is taken from . . .", the closing phrase: "Thanks be to GOD." But when I stood gaping at the high ceilings inside the cathedral, those memories were so unfamiliar to me that is seemed as if they had never really transpired. The peace, the quiet, the beauty of this worship was lost to me, sans return, sans fondness. But pardon me, this is not my path that I walk. | >
> | Just below the church steps, a man wheeled his immobile wife, and happily so. Whether or not this is the same couple that Nona speaks of, it gave the cathedral a new look of grandeur. It seemed more humble, more like an abode that is inhabited by real people, rather than a majestic display of a religion's glory (or wealth). Having attended chapel six days a week for more than ten years, I cannot help but reminisce about my childhood -- the walk up to the altar steps, the bow, the placement of the body behind the podium, the opening of the sacred book, the first line: "Today's reading is taken from . . .", the closing phrase: "Thanks be to GOD." But when I stood gaping at the high ceilings inside the cathedral, those memories were so unfamiliar to me that is seemed as if they had never really transpired. The peace, the quiet, the beauty of this worship was lost to me, sans return, sans fondness. But pardon me, this is not my path that I walk. | | | | |
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< | The Grates, too, came to pass. And like Nona, I felt the compassion that arose within me. I knew that their loneliness is not much different than my own. I have a convenient cover whereas everything of theirs lays bare before the world. As for their suffering, it was urgent and more real than mine. But giving them sympathy would be like showing fire to a leper from afar. It is useless. And thus, I smiled and kept walking. | >
> | The Grates, too, came to pass. And like Nona, I felt the compassion that arose within me. I knew that the loneliness of those seated there is not much different from my own. I have a convenient cover whereas they lay bare and exposed before the world. As for their suffering, it was urgent and more real than mine. But giving them sympathy would be like showing fire to a leper from afar. It is useless. And thus, I smiled and kept walking. | | | | |
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< | As I approached the law school at 116 and Amsterdam, the drizzle had turned to rain. I could not bring myself to enter the hallowed gates of our law school. The smell of warm rain hitting the soft earth filled my nostrils. It was a sweet, familiar smell that stayed with me over the past fifteen years while everything else around me was fading away. And so it happened that just as this assignment came to a close, my walk began. I followed the scent of raindrops to Riverside Drive, walked by another cathedral and then by a magnanimous tomb. But in those open spaces, I felt more alive than I ever have within the renowned legal and medical hallways of Amsterdam Avenue. And so I continued to walk for awhile. Only this time, the course was of my own choosing. | >
> | As I approached the law school at 116 and Amsterdam, the drizzle had turned to rain. But I could not bring myself to enter the hallowed gates of our law school. The smell of warm rain hitting the soft earth filled my nostrils. It was that sweet, familiar smell that stayed with me over the past fifteen years while everything else around me was fading away. And it so happened that just as this assignment came to a close, my walk began. I followed the scent of raindrops to Riverside Drive, walked by another cathedral and then by a magnanimous tomb. But in those open spaces, I felt more alive than I ever have within the renowned legal and medical pathways of Amsterdam Avenue. And thus, my walk continued for miles. Only this time, the course was of my own choosing. | | |
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