it's the week everyone on staff at PORTICO has been waiting for: the big move back to the church campus.

ten months ago, we packed up everything, took some of the stuff with us, demolished the portapak and moved across town. it all seemed temporary at first, but some time around september or october, it started feeling less temporary, and more like we would be making the commute forever.

i wish i could tell you that i have handled the inconvenience with the utmost of grace and joy... but that would be a pathetic lie. i have complained, internally and externally. i have grumbled about the added expense, the quadrupled commute time, and things too trivial to even remember at this point.

in short, i have not been an example i would want anyone to follow.

then today, on my very last early morning commute day, i took the bus that i've taken at least three or four times a week for the past ten months, and while i was waiting at the Square One terminal, the bus i normally connect to pulled up, and, as usual, most passengers exited. the last passenger, a man in his late 50s or early 60s, uses a cane and has very limited mobility. he is always the last one off, mostly, i am sure, because passengers exiting a bus seldom wait patiently for someone moving slowly in front of them.

over the ten months, i have seen this man at least three times a week and since usually i am in the crowd waiting to get on the bus he is exiting, i have never spoken a word to him. today, however, i decided to wait for the next bus, in an effort to cut one transfer out of my commute. as i waited, the man walked past me, and i smiled at him. he stopped for a moment, commenting on how glad he was that mississauga has a good transit system, but that you simply cannot get anywhere on one bus. he was very pleasant and well-spoken, and we chatted for a few moments before he was off to catch his next bus.

as i watched him slowly walk away, the selfishness of my attitude and actions over the past ten months overwhelmed me. i have two good feet at the end of my two good legs. i have a healthy body that has not experienced any real hardship in the commute. i have nothing to complain about. and yet, i have complained.

after this week, if all goes well and the move happens as planned, i may never see that man again, but i will always be grateful to him for helping me see my own crippled heart in comparison to his healthy, grateful one.


Post a Comment


Total Pageviews