Posted by: agapeflower | September 18, 2008

An Eventful Walk

My neighbor and I decided that today was much too beautiful to spend indoors, and it was.  65 degrees, cool, and not a cloud in the blue, blue sky.  We planned a walk down to Mellon Park, about six blocks or so from our apartment building, and set out a little before one.  We caught up on each others’ mornings: her sleepless night, my dream in which I told news reporters that Cindy McCain looks like a raptor from Jurassic Park (she was pretty offended in the dream, as I recall).

And on our walk, right outside Chatham College, there she was: a girl lying on her stomach on the sidewalk.  I thought she was writing with chalk at first, because there was another girl with her, crouched down next to her, and they were out of earshot.  But as we drew closer, we realized the girl on the sidewalk was bleeding – profusely.

She had tripped while running and earned a nice wide gash right above her right eye, and an immense pool of blood ran down the pavement.  I was surprised at how thick it was, and red. The other girl with her – another passerby – had already called an ambulance, so I knelt down and asked her if there was anyone I could call.

“My husband,” she said.  I was taken aback by that; she looked all of twenty.  But, then again, I look like I’m sixteen and I’m married too, so I’m not one to talk.  I took down the number she gave and called her husband, told him the situation, and waited with the other girls until he arrived.

The three of us all tried to help in the best way we could by adding our own bits of commentary.  “Well, at least the hard part’s over,” I said.  “You’re already on the sidewalk.”  She laughed at that.  My neighbor offered the added benefit that now she’d get painkillers, and the girl who was with her initially offered soothing words of comfort.

It was a short moment; a few minutes later the paramedics and the girl’s husband arrived, and my neighbor and I continued our short journey.  At first, I found I was disappointed with myself.  I felt as if I hadn’t done enough.  What I had wanted to do was make her laugh, sit the girl up, bandage her and send her on her way, making sure she was healed and all was right.  But I couldn’t, so I did what I could do: I made her smile, I called her husband, and I stayed with her until more help got there.  It wasn’t “enough” in my book, but it was all I could do.

It’s funny how seriously I take myself sometimes.  I realize I have a lot to “get over” these days when it comes to life.


I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon.  I’m really nervous because I know so much is riding on it.  I hope it works out; I’m ready and anxious to get to work at paring down this absurd amount of student loan-based debt I have piled up.  If you’re of the will and mind to, please say a prayer for me at about 3:00 p.m. — I’d appreciate all the help I can get! 🙂


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