Real Soup for the Soul

The weather has been frigid this season. When I am not writing, I am working as a coatings professional. This position puts me some very harsh conditions. Recently it has been on a balcony, 4 floors up, at a Rehobeth Beach, Delaware hotel. Needless to say the wind blowing in off of the ocean drops the windchill down to the teens.

As a part of my daily routine, I commute on public transit from my office to home. On the Delmarva Peninsula there is a bus transit system that runs every two hours into the small town where I live. The commute from Rehobeth is about 50 miles down a single lane rural road. A trip home the other day left me stranded with an hour and a half wait at the tiny bus station in Salisbury, Maryland. I had not been feeling well that day so the cold and the delay were frustrating to me. I considered getting on the bus I was to take and ride in the opposite direction for an hour until it came back, just to keep warm.

I called my wife from the lobby and explained my predicament. The attendant at the window overheard my conversation. Knowing that I had been in the elements all day at Rehobeth Beach and the fact that I probably looked cold and pale, she suggested I wait there for an express bus. It would leavie 5 minutes after my normal route and it was the last bus of the night. If I missed it Iwould be stranded 40 miles from home. I had nothing to do so I asked her if there was a restaurant nearby. Her response surprised me.

She pointed out the nearest restaurant and then said," But I have some beef and barley soup you can have."

Flattered, I told her, " I don't want to eat your dinner..."

She answered, "No, no... a co-worker brought a crock pot full of the soup to work. She made it for her husband but he didn't want it. I guess he is a chicken soup man."

I took her up on her offer, and with much grace and kindness, the bus station attendant served me a large bowl of hot soup and crackers. It was the perfect remedy for both my chilled bones and my ill feelings. I write this story with the utmost respect for humanity and the powers watching out for me.

In this little bus station, on the wall, was a sign that read "no eating or drinking allowed". Yet this woman, a New York City import, gave of what had been provided to her, for my benefit. I was impressed because she did not care about the sign or the security camera that was fixed directly at the spot where I ate. Her concern was with blessing. And she wished me as much.

We talked for a while and I got acquainted with her. She was very plain and straightforward. Her demeanor was pleasant and polite. She had mentioned about the serendipitous nature of the soup and how it seemed to be there just for my benefit. I'm not saying she believed in mystical things or any of that, but her tone seemed to indicate that she honored how the universe had seemed to supply for that moment. I honor it as well.

I left that night feeling better, warmer and more hopeful about the human condition. It is funny what a little unwanted soup can do.