Our Friend The Lady

She always beats us to the bus stop. Every morning. Even the day we missed the bus because one of us was on the potty, and, well, the buses here don’t wait for things like that. She sits on the bench under the little bus stop covering at the Haltestelle down the street with her black messenger bag and candy in her pockets. Today it was in her hand already.

“Morgen,” she says as the three of us approach the bench at the stop. We smile and greet her, and she hands us each a piece of candy. Every single morning she gives a piece of something to each one of us. Usually candy, but one day it was prepackaged Rice Krispies treats. And not just for the girls. She gives me one, too. We always accept and thank her, kind of shy-like. And I always feel sort of bad, and wish I knew something to give to her.

We met her the first day we rode the bus to school. 7:21 am. She had candy that day, too. We exchanged greetings, and communicated our lack of German communication skills, and she talked anyway. So friendly and happy, I think, to have someone to wait with on her way to work. The next day we exchanged names. And she told me to address her in the informal “du”, when I speak to her. It changes the way I conjugate verbs and it tells me that she sees me as a friend. I think she would agree that we were friends before that, though. Even before we knew each others’ names. That’s why we called her “Our Friend The Lady.”

And everyday we talk a bit more. Everyday, I learn a little bit more about her. Everyday I want to give her something like the candy she gives us. Everyday, I have the opportunity to show her the real life that Jesus gave me just by the way I listen or show her His love. Oh Lord, may I truly love as You do.