A Valentine to Strangers

Strangers get a bad rap in general. As children, we are taught to fear and avoid them. I'm not sure how we are supposed to ever meet people, make friends and establish relationships if we don't ever talk to strangers, but that is not a question we are supposed to ask. And who are these strangers anyway? Well, I think maybe they are us.

I have been thinking about an entry about encounters with strangers for a long time now. And then just this week, I have been seeing lots of commentary on a particular social network about love, how to define it, how important it is in a relationship, how to rank relationships by priority...basically, how to use intangibles to set up some kind of ratings system for the people in your life. In thinking about all of that, together with my earlier thoughts about strangers, I realized that strangers have been pretty damn important in my life and I have never sent even one of them a valentine!

So here's to the strangers:

To the three separate people who gave me rides back to where I was staying when I was new to Seattle and had forgotten how to get back there. To the woman who picked me up at a bus stop when it was vile and stormy out. To the couple who picked me up on the highway in Texas when my brother's car had broken down, drove me to a gas station to pick up oil, and then drove me back. To the man in Athens, who, when I had left my hotel, wandered out into the market and gotten hopelessly lost and terrified, took me out for espresso, got (and paid for!) a cab, and, by way of 20 questions in halting English, found my hotel for me again. To anyone else who has given me rides, friendly company and good-natured searching when I've been wandering lost and alone in some strange city, with no idea where I am. According to our cultural mythology, all of these events should have ended badly. Every time I've been in this situation it has been terrifying. And every time I have been delivered safely to my door.

To the man who saw my partner crying in the cookie section at the grocery store after we had had a particularly challenging Thanksgiving with her family; instead of turning away, he said, "This holiday can be tough, can't it?" and we all laughed together. To the mother of the rape survivor I had worked with, who, after her daughter died, got in touch with me and wrote me a thank you note I still have, closing with the words, "...when you can no longer do this work, know that you have done your work well." To the fellow student who told me, "Don't ever stop writing! You have something important to say." To all of the authors who have written books that have fed me, supported me, lifted me, engaged me, kept me company with their words. To everyone who has chosen to speak their love and kindness into my life rather than keep silent.

To the bus driver who knew me by sight and knew I was always running from work to catch her bus. She would roll slowly to the next intersection and look up the hill for me; if she saw me, she'd wait. To the man who gave me a daffodil my very first day in Seattle. To the boy who talked with me at a party, came home with me, had sex with me and slept in my bed before sneaking out early in the morning to get out before my parents arrived. I know–one night stands, especially sneaky ones, are supposed to be bad and I should be ashamed of it. But earlier that night, I had been crying, after a summer of crying, and crawling around on the floor in the kitchen, searching for a sharp knife to do damage to myself, when the phone rang with a friend's invitation to this particular party. The invitation and the party, with their reminder that life was still available to me, and the boy, with his interest and enthusiasm, broke my depression and let me begin to climb back into my life. To everyone who has given me a gift out of the blue of exactly what I needed that moment.

Strangers bear witness to each moment in our lives, and, by their choices, can nurture and support us. It seems that my primary relationship is the one I have with the strangers in my life. So, thank you. I love you. Happy Valentine's Day!

copyright 2009 J. Autumn Needles