While riding the autobus and painstakingly holding on to one of the columns and enduring my throbbing feet, an old lady stood up and gave me a smile. She wasn’t necessarily “old” but sported those overly formal fur coats that smelled of rich perfume and hung too much pearls around her neck. With the bus semi-full, I opted for the standing space by the window and bore the ache in my boots after walking for miles. Also, there was no way I was going to greedily grab a seat with the crowd of senior citizens following me as I boarded the bus. It took me a 30-minute ride full of dirty looks and agonizing guilt to learn that lesson. Even with their incomprehensible, fast Spanish murmurs, I could still feel their glares no matter how hard I ignored them.

When I chose my spot by the window, I noticed the old woman right away. She was humming to herself in melodious trills while swaying her head from side to side. I only saw glimpses of her smile through the people blocking the view. At times, she would let out a shaky breath before filling the bus with yet another set of trills. I focused on her hum to get my mind off my aching feet. I let the landscape blur away in front of me as I fell into her song. No one was speaking, even as more people got on the bus, everyone instantly joined in on the intoxicated audience. Rowdy conversations died out as soon as they stepped foot on the bus, babies stopped their cries and was lulled to sleep and not even a cough or sneeze broke the silence. All focus was on this meditating performer and as she swayed, the bus swayed with her. She was radiating peace and seemed to glow. There was sadness to her high trills that accompanied hopefulness to her low trills. When she lunged into a painful melody, we felt the pain with her. When she flew over joyful melodies, we soared with her. At one point, I caught a middle-aged man behind me dry his eyes with his tie. Slowly, the whirring of the bus faded and the old woman opened her eyelids to reveal a green sparkling meadow behind them. Eyes so piercingly green with golden flecks, worn out by age but preserved by wisdom. Her song stopped and she became aware of her surroundings.

She didn’t even seem to notice everyone’s eyes on her as she got on her feet and took a wobbly step towards the door. After pressing the button, she looks back at my direction and gives me a smile. Not just an old-Grammy-loves-you smile but a you’re-destined-for-greatness-and-I’m-proud-of-you smile. I watched her exit the bus with a limp and by the time she was out of view, somebody had already snagged her available seat.

One day, just like any other, I took the usual bus ride home and in that ride, unknowingly, I saw my future before my eyes.