The Story of the Stranger | Teen Ink

The Story of the Stranger

October 23, 2009
By Shawntae90 GOLD, Sunnyvale, California
Shawntae90 GOLD, Sunnyvale, California
18 articles 0 photos 6 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future" Oscar Wilde

I took a walk today. I take them often, yes, but there was something about this certain walk. It could have been the sunny weather that made a lasting impact on my doleful heart, it could have been the wind blowing its tears upon my face, it could have been a number of things. I believe that it was something specific to change my whole outward look on life, and it came in the package of a stranger. Because each day we walk, each day we move and wake, we are thrown into circumstances and situations to make our souls laugh or our dreams cry. Either way, we find people on a daily basis, people that we call "strangers". But the fact of the matter is that even strangers are moms, or brothers, or friends to someone else. No one is really a stranger, are they?

I dont know why im telling you this story, and perhaps you wont understand the impact the way it has molded me, but the fact of the matter, i feel as if it was my duty to tell you. So, take this story and take what you may from it.

It was last Saturday evening. The sun was barely setting, but there was an orange color that filled the sky. It was beautiful, an evening unlike any other, just like God's own personal fingerprints to life. I traveled the path that i usually take on my walks, through the park, up the street. I decided i would sit on the swing for a while and enjoy the scenery at hand, while enjoying the breeze on my face that came from the swing. It made me laugh, but i wasn't sure why. I closed my eyes and thought of the precious beauty that we are shown ever single day but very rarely acknowledge. It was a blissful moment. Then, a small boy came up and sat on the swing next to me. His hair was long and dark, yet his eyes were the color of the sky. He must have been around the age of 11, i could see the coming of age ideal in his eyes, fighting the innocence within. The kid was beautiful, ravishing, almost theatrical.
"Hello", i said to him engaged with the simplicity of his expressions.
He fought the desire to look at me, "Im not suppose to talk to strangers", he said.
I smirked, "Well, how do you know im a stranger?"
The question made him look at me with his eyebrows raised, "But you are. I dont know you."
"Okay, well, my name is Micah. Whats yours?"
I could see that he was trying to figure out if he should tell me, "Im Landon."
"What a beautiful name. See, we are getting to know each other already."
"Do we ever really know anyone?" he asked, and with the question, i could see the maturity fighting its way through this small boy.
I laughed, "No. I dont think we do."
"But maybe", the boy said, "Maybe we are all already connected, maybe there really is no such thing as strangers, only friends waiting to happen." His eyes sparkled in my direction. And i felt a new sense of relief. Life is beautiful, through all of the pain, the hurt and the odious situations we come across, in the end, the sun always wins, the laughter always triumphs and we are connected.

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