People I See Along The Walk to Work

For the past month, I have been going to work with my daughter, who attends school across the street from where I work.  We park in her parking lot and I leave the car there and walk to work.  Parking is a pain at work and when I drive I end up parking about the same distance from my office anyway.

The walk to work is pleasurable; because I have made some “friends” I don’t know.  These are few people I see about every day, and if I don’t see them I miss them.  Also a few people I see just every once in a while.

I pass a very heavy set security guard.  I know he is a security guard because his shirt, which is not tucked in (neither is mine until I actually get to work) has a security guard patch on it.  It makes me wonder if he would rather be a police officer, but couldn’t get into the academy because of his weight.  Of course on the weight issue I tread lightly because I am overweight (obese according to the charts) myself.

There are a few people I see occasionally.  There is a little girl who is with someone wearing a badge.  I don’t know if it is a professional relationship or a family relationship.  She is probably two.  Every time I have seen her, she has been pushing her stroller rather than riding.  She’s cute.

There is also a gentleman I know from our stake (large church area).  I know he is in our stake as I have seen him at stake conference, and Charity has mentioned he attends some activities with the singles group.  He is in a wheel chair due to, I think, cerebral palsy.  I say “hi” to him but he doesn’t really respond.  I am sure he doesn’t know who I am.

I pass a bus stop, across from the hospital, and it was a wide assortment of characters standing in the sidewalk so I have to go around them.  Some of them appear pretty rough, tattooed and weather worn.  Sometimes one might be making a scene, dancing to his I-pod, or his internal music, or something.  I try to get through this group as quickly as I can.

Finally there is a little African American boy, probably 1 ½, who I see in his stroller with his mom pushing.  He is the cutest little guy.  He has the pudgiest cheeks.  A couple of times he has fallen asleep and his mom covers his face with the hood on the stroller to block the sun, so I don’t get to see his chubby cheeks.  I usually see him just before I get to work.  I miss him if I don’t see him.  I look for him.  Today I didn’t see him, but I looked along the sidewalk beyond where I go to work and saw him coming—so I walked a bit further so as to not miss him.   I smile at his mom, and she usually smiles back.  But just seeing this little guy gives me a bit of joy.