Talking to Strangers

Two days ago, I found myself in an all too familiar situation.  I was crammed between a stranger and an arm rest, overhead was an over-full bin, my carry-on tucked beneath the seat in front of me left very little leg room, and there was a running engine beneath my feet.  I got ready to headphone it up and hunker-down for some long put-off reading or even a three-hour in-flight nap, when the familiar situation quickly jolted into a new situation.  “So, how goes it?” uttered the next door passenger. 

Not putting down my book, I gave a weak smile and replied, “Oh, fine.” Was my reply, secretly, selfishly, hoping the conversation would end there.

“Where’re ya headed?” The stranger pried.

“On my way to Wisconsin to see family for Christmas….family and a fiancé.” I said smiling.  I certainly couldn’t be rude anymore; the door had opened, so I asked in return, “You?”

“Missouri.  My family is there.” He told me, and he continued to tell me for the next three hours about his family, his past job experiences, his mission, his goals to attend BYU, his outlook on the debt crisis, his food habits, his hobbies, what he likes about SLC, his home state of California, and so many more fascinating  subjects I cannot recall. 

In three-hours time, I’d learned so much about him, and yet it irks me…the most important thing about me, the thing I wanted to share with him, he never got to hear.  Was it me?  Am I hiding? 

As we deplaned, I carelessly commented, “Nice talking with you.  Thanks for making the trip fly.  I’m Katie by the way.”  And seeing I’d probably never see him I again, I attempted, “Have a safe trip and Merry Christmas!”

“Yeah, thanks!  I’m Jared.  Merry Christmas to you too!”

And that was it.  A stranger named Jared.  I talked with him for three hours and never once took the opportunity to say ANYTHING worth real meaning…but then again, had he?

Maybe sometimes, Void, we are just hear to listen…