Kindness of a Stranger

Is it hubris to enter the challenge I inspired? Oh well...

There’s a lady on the train platform.

She’s tall, with hair a shade of red not found in nature. Briefly, I wonder if it’s a wig, early onset of grey, or just for fun. She’s dressed in black, the kind of long business skirt that you don’t see much these days, and a polo shirt with a name and logo from a company I’ve never heard of. That's not unusual, though; Parramatta is the 'Western CBD', which means both that it's a crowded nightmare to navigate during peak periods, and there are a lot of businesses you've never heard of (as well as a dozen you probably have) within walking distance of the station.

Like me, the mystery sewing lady has just missed the last train. Normally, I’d commiserate and maybe start a conversation, but her head is angled down, a small frown directed at the embroidery hoop in her hand. It’s pretty, a pattern of what looks like roses and leaves, and five spokes, probably the beginning of another rose.

The thread is tangled, and she’s trying to fix it without having to cut and start over. Best not to interrupt her, even if she doesn’t look like the type to get angry at the nearest target over it.

Perhaps when I get home tonight, I’ll see if Nana is still interested in teaching me… My mother and grandmother grew up in a time when women learned to sew and cook as an expected part of life. I'd pushed back against learning to sew on Third Wave Feminist principles in my teens, but it's clearly a leisure activity for her, and a useful life skill.

There's a guy, elbowing his friends and standing way closer than he needs to be, before backing off hastily when the embroidery needle nearly stabs him in the cheek. It might have been an accident, but from the unrepentant stare she aims at the would-be creep, I don't think it is. Three schoolgirls edge a little closer to her, and she pretends not to notice.

I’ve still got time to make it to work on the next train, and oddly enough, thinking about leaning a new hobby put me in a better mood. The lady with the embroidery looks up, and offers a tiny smile when our eyes meet. I start to walk in her direction, but because the universe hates me, that's when the train arrives, and I'm still two carriages away.

I could try to find her again by moving between compartments, but the train is packed, and three stops later I see her disembarking, helping a pram across the gap between train and platform before heading to the lifts. She's holding a green lanyard decorated with yellow sunflowers, attached to an Opal Card, the NSW public transit pass. I'd seen advertisements about the sunflower lanyard, for people with Hidden Disabilities.

Briefly, I wonder if it's a mobility issue, or something else and she just doesn't like stairs, before deciding that it's none of my business.

The train pulls away from the station as she's holding the elevator door for a bunch of people with suitcases, and aiming the same stare from earlier at a few people complaining about the wait, loudly enough tat I can hear them.

My stop is next, Blacktown, so I tuck away my tablet and hunt for my own Opal card. Maybe a lanyard isn't such a bad idea...

One of my writing groups had an exercise where you described other people like they were a character in a novel, and I found that doing so made me look for positive qualities, even in the people I didn’t particularly like.

Describing this to my Psych, she brought it up as a self-kindness exercise whenever I start to get down on myself, which is what prompted me to suggest it as a September Challenge.