My plan to take a very early lunch, in order to avoid the ‘lunch crowd’ at the bank backfired.

It seems I’m not the only one who had that plan.

I’ve said it before, and it bears repeating – I don’t mind standing in line.

I think of all the people who would give anything to be able to.

To hear the chatter around them. To see the sights … the colors.

People unable to stand.

People unable to leave their homes.

People no longer with us.

What would they give to stand in that line?

There was a beautiful Native American woman in front of me. A black braid ran the length of her back – a turquoise and silver hair clip securing the top of it. No grey – in spite of her advanced age. She was lovely. Freckles and kind, happy eyes.

And she was waiting patiently as I was.

There was some mumbling – impatience and she turned and locked eyes with me and we shared a smile. There was understanding and amusement. And peaceful resonance.

Then she took her turn – and I kept staring at her, unable to look away – until I was called for mine.