The Color of Today

I chose a spot in the shade over by the slow moving sword dancers in Moore Playground. It’s quieter here; however, I still hear a jackhammer, the music of the Korean dancers, and the slap of a tennis ball in the handball court. A grandpa swings his granddaughter, and I see a well-dressed group walking through the park – the Jehovah Witnesses have returned. There’s a volleyball game being played and basketball.

The walk this morning took me past Thai restaurants and a Filipino place where they barbeque on the sidewalk. I saw the can man with his grocery cart. I stopped to admire my favorite yellow roses.

I wonder what’s happening in the Asian food court across the street. They’ve put a sign on the building that says, “S Mart,” along with a huge plastic red crab. An Asian grocery? We already have two big ones in the area. (Welcome to Chinatown.) I walked in the side of the building that’s open. I saw a customer buying food at the Burmese Hut and observed sesame balls, piles of fried rice, and foods for which I have no name at the Chinese buffet.

Several hundred Tibetans, many dressed in traditional dress, filled a section of this park Wednesday evening. We watched as someone lit candles on a decorated cake. Afterwards, they sang happy birthday in their language and then in English to His Highness, the Dalai Lama.

Some elderly Chinese chat on the bench beside me. It’s been a quiet week, so while I feel privileged to live here – even that God wants us here – I miss the fellowship with my people.

And now these elderly Chinese are exercising: punch, punch, kick, kick, holler(!) . . .

God bless you in the place you are filling. Berniece