Smile on a train
Stranger sitting opposite to me,
you did not know how deeply I despaired.
Maybe you guessed something was wrong
from the solitary way I kept my eyes upon my feet.
Could you have known the sodden sadness of my heart
from drooping shoulders?
Or was it that deeply hidden sob
erupting , unwanted, at a vicious memory?
Self-absorbed in misery I did not realise
my life lay open, a tabloid for all to read.
Yet you were not content with prurient curiosity,
instead you gave a gift of warmth.
Your smile lit up your face. Mine, responding,
Warmed me too.
From somewhere deep inside, small flickers of hope
crawled up my belly.
Self-belief and trust, long lost and forgotten,
crept out from hiding places.
Desolation gave up its grip
as I found my smile again.
Your unknown hearer
I can’t say that we ever met: and yet I remain in your debt.
I think you would have been amused, to think that your words lit a fuse
in me so many years ago. I wonder if you’ll ever know
the change resulting from that day when you had come to have your say.
It was a usual day at school when we were taken to the hall.
You stood alone upon the stage looking at us girls, encaged
in expectations, thoughts, desires. Your words, designed to light up fires
fell flat upon our sullen ears. Who cared to hear about your years
in Africa? Dark continent indeed. Slow of pace, when we craved speed.
Excitement, glamour filled our minds: I did not then expect to find
interest in teaching far from home, a wish to venture out alone.
Yet as I looked upon your slides a little voice echoed inside:
‘That all looks like tremendous fun!’ So with those words, your job was done.
I qualified, went off to teach just minutes from a Kenyan beach.
Two years of volunteering, then I met a man there, married him
and lived another twenty years with monkeys, lions, exotic birds.
And so it was you changed my life: as happy teacher, mother, wife,
I thank that day we did not meet: and yet you made my life complete.
