I was on the subway when an older woman sat down next to me in slow motion. I had to compliment her.
“You did that so gracefully,” I said.
“Well at my age, you have to do everything gracefully,” she said.
“How old are you?”
“100. Today.”
“Today’s your 100th birthday?”
“It is.”
“How does it feel?”
“Good, just like my other days. I have a great life.”
“Have you lived in New York your whole life?”
“I have. What about you?”
“I’ve lived here for a number of years, but I’m moving to Florida this week.”
“You’ll come back.”
“You think?”
“Oh, yes. Everyone always comes back eventually.”
“Well, I’d love to come back with more money,” I joked.
“You will. You’ll see,” she said without any trace of joking. “Oh, this is my stop.”
She stood up just as gracefully as she sat down.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Irene,” she said, shaking my hand. “What’s yours?”
“Christa.”
“You go enjoy your life, Christa. I’ll see you when you get back.”
She smiled wide and exited the train. It’s encounters like this that make me realize New York is a great city and that angels live among us. Once the subway doors closed, I seriously wondered if I had just met a person named Irene or if imagined her. Either way, I plan to take her advice.
Christa Avampato 