i was standing at the bus stop at 9am accompanied by a thick rainy drizzle and the slightest wind that made everything unprotected by waterproof rain gear completely soaked. this morning was dreary.
outside was dreay, and so was i. i was not particularly in the mood to be making the same daily trek to work, and in even less of a mood to carry out my daily work routine of sitting, photocopying, sitting, retreiving books for patrons and more sitting at the reception desk.
but you know, all of this is not that bad. i don't mind my job (for now) and the rain isn't so bad either. it's the routine. the boring ol' routine that sneaks up on you. and for this, i am pretty sure my face was stoney and blank, and coupled with the commuter transit passenger gaze i must have looked dreadful and i sort of felt it, too.
a few stops down the line an old man boarded the bus. judging by appearance he looked as if he needed a nice hot bath and some fresh clothes. he wore a slate blue jacket and pefectly worn brown leather boots. he was carrying with him a dingey white plastic bag, the good sturdy kind that you can't see through. (also the kind my grandmother hoards on account of they stand up to her continual packing and unloading of her gifts of grapefruits, kleenex , spices, toilet paper, etc., that she distributes at her grandchildren's houses. i suppose i am getting older because i truly cherish those gifts.) anyway, so i was wondering if these plastic bags were an old person thing and i realized that i too tend to store them in my kitchen for the same reason, when this old scruffy japanese man begins to dig in his back pocket.
i am getting nervous at this point, and my experience as a bus rider for the last five years begins to make me think, 'great, do i want to know what is going on here?,' so i divert my gaze to the window behind him. i notice that he pulls out of his pocket a small crisply folded piece of newspaper, and he continues to makes a crane. the sort that flaps its wings when you pull the tail. a smile spreads a across his face and he notices that a lady sitting a few seats down from me was watching him craft and he leans over the aisle and gives it to her. he says the word 'peace'. and sort of bows, still smiling.
a wave of cheerfulness hit me. kindness like this is so rare! especially in a bit city. my stoney face softened, i couldn't help but smile. he noticed my smile and he quickly returned to this back pocket and brought out another half folded crane and quickly brought it to life with flapping wings and presented it to me. i accepted the token with the same sentiment of peace and began pulling its tail to animate it.
the old man, noticing that other bus riders were warming up with smiles as he made hist first two offers, continued to pull cranes from his pocket and soon there was a handful of us with his small creations. the recipients all thanked him and wished him a nice day as they trucked off of the bus and onto the sidewalk, still smiling i might add.
the old man pulled the cord before my stop, he thanked the bus driver, his brown boots clunked as he shuffled up the street. i noticed that his back pockets were stuffed with his folded cranes.
i pulled the cord a few blocks away and tucked the crane into my raincoats chest pocket for protection. i thought about how i have been working on folding 1000 cranes, how it was supposed to stand for world peace, how they were strung up in strings of 25 cranes slowly building to 1000. i thought about how no matter how many cranes i fold and string it isn't going to change the world, and i thought about how those five cranes that the old, smiling japanese man folded on the bus probably did.
