I was thinking this week about a haunting snippet of a conversation that had ended ‘it’s always the little things that matter’. We know there are massive foundations working grandly to fulfill the promise of humanity and loads of both main stream and obscure charities working to solve intractable problems, but in true LostInTheFeed style, we focused our attention this week on making a difference at the individual level, one single person at a time.
As regular LITF readers know, I fly a lot during the summer months and being somewhat a creature of habit I tend to park in the same place, take the same elevators to the same underground hallways to the same terminal gates each week. Of course the parking gods frequently (okay, always) mess with my plans, but somehow on most trips I do manage to pass this one busker, lovingly plying his trade in the depths just where the acoustics bring the sounds of the trains and planes, pedestrians and sweepers together in perfect harmony with his incredible, pitch-perfect voice. I’ve hurried past the man more times that I can count, always wondering the same: from where he came, why that spot, where does he go after, is there some government permitting office allocating hallway space and do we really pay a fleet of inspectors to chase unlicensed musicians out of dark airport hallways?
On this particular return flight, already three hours later than planned, I was struck once again by the quality of the man’s voice as I rounded the hall toward the parking garage, and decided, cash in hand, to learn more. I nodded as I stopped to read his sign and thank him for the weeks of walking serenade, and I could see in his eyes the joy his ears delivered to him as his voice joined with the natural volume of his chosen place. I listened for a while, reluctant to interrupt, and decided finally that my questions should remain unanswered and I should just enjoy the reasons he chose to do what he does in that spot. I left smiling, and I still wonder today if the collection of funds he draws, sped just a bit by our efforts, feeds him nearly as much as the music he generates and lives in each day.
I would reckon that the fact that you stopped and listened – meant a great deal more than the cash. The need for recognition and honest, openly expressed appreciation is something all of us share – regardless of our different backgrounds, family income, or social status. Feeling appreciated for what we do makes the hard times so much easier, doesn’t it?
Lovely. And I agree with MrsHaydee about what may have meant more.
Thanks for your comment Julie!