Pass on by

When I was a child I spent hours in the car traveling to see grandparents. I would stare out the window watching the unknown worlds go by. Riding the train reminds me of those days. Hour after hour I stare out the train window watching houses, factories, schools, and cars go by. We’ve passed hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of people. Where are they all going? What are they doing? Dreaming? Wanting? Hoping for? Do we have something in common? Would they listen to my story or want to tell their own? If we met on the street, would we become friends? Foes? Or just pass on by? Since the train keeps moving, I guess we’ll never know.

Tidbit: While I may never know if I would find common ground with those outside the train, I do know that I met people inside the train, whether sharing a meal or a two minute conversation, that enriched and expanded my own narrow vision of the world outside.