Holy Moments

She stood at the curb of the busiest 4-lane street in Bartlesville, with her baby in a stroller in front of her. The nearest traffic signal was at least a block away. I was turning into the street from a not-too-distant driveway. I have no idea how long she'd been standing there. A driver stopped his pickup in the curb lane in front of her. No one behind him got on their horn. They honored his action. Before long, another car stopped in the right center lane. The young mother dashed across the two lanes, to the narrow space in the middle.

A space opened in the traffic and I entered the traffic and went my way. I was unable to see behind me whether traffic stopped behind me to allow her to continue across.

I was also unable to jump out of my car to ask the religious or ethnic affiliation of the courteous drivers -- but I did note that the pickup driver who started it had black, straight hair, dark eyes and olive skin. In the eyes of many living here, such an act of kindness and consideration would be labeled "Christian," with the incredible blindness that says, Native Americans, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, secular humanists or pagans would never engage in such, as though kindness were exclusive to Christians.

Whoever -- the radiance of Christ shows through such acts, they are indeed tiny holy moments -- in America, anywhere, by anyone....

For those drivers, and for the universal love and kindness that prompted them, we bless them. O Lord....

...And for the safety of the young mother and her child, we pray, O Lord...

...and for us who are blind to the presence of Diving Compassion in all humanity, O Lord....

Peace, w