A woman on FaceTribe posted two amazing stories:

One:

"Today at the laundromat, the man was standing in an odd way, hunched yet looking ready to pounce. I asked if he was using the wheeled laundry basket near him. He mumbled something incoherent and made an odd gesture. I'm accustomed to people around here purposefully being vague as a power trip, that way any action you take they can act 'diss-ed' by and put you down for it. I didn't want to play that game today, so I said, "I'm sorry, I couldn't understand your response, was that a yes or a no?" More incoherency and a stronger, indecipherable gesture. With a thank you, I took the cart.

Over the next hour I watched him, always odd, strange eyed, not responding or interacting 'normally.' He wandered, fiddled with odd things, kept his back to the wall, kept glancing to the door. He never spoke to anyone, and generally kept his eyes averted from anyone else's. He began to look like a little boy who was trying to act cool but who was actually really scared.

As I was folding the last of my sheets a woman came in, gave this man a smile, a gentle touch on his shoulder and a kiss. His whole demeanor softened, his eyes bathed in her face. He smiled. Her hands started moving. Slow, cautious sign language. He responded slow, measured, as though just learning.

As I was walking out, the staff woman, who had seen me watching them together, told me "He came back from Iraq two years ago deaf, and was so angry he refused to learn sign language. He made it his New Years resolution this year to learn. He said he's doing it because he loves his wife so much."

It is so easy for me to judge, to assume, to become fearful. Yet, I never know a stranger's story. Never.

May I ever grow in my compassion. Ever grow. ah ho."

Two:

"Easter morning:
The sound was unmistakable - adult bird stuck in the rain gutter down spout, about mid second story. I investigated and said "There's nothing I can do. I don't have an extension ladder, the screws are rusted stuck and the pipe is anchored into the building mortar." Two hours later the pipe was cut, the mortar chiseled out, eight feet of jammed debris removed and an adult black bird came flying out to gracefully land on the wires across the street. I learned the bird had been in there for many days. There was fresh greenery among the stuck debris, she was nest building when she fell in. Later on a very skinny black bird landed on the tree near me and tweeted and chirped as I gardened.

At first I was hopeless saying there was nothing I could do. But I found I could do a lot. I could open the tomb. Happy Easter!"

i am so covered in darkness, but there is so much light.