The lady appeared to be in her 70’s and severely inclined, I’d guess, to more than 45 degrees. I marveled that there was a very large, formidable bag hanging from her neck. From where I stood it had to be a very real reason for her unseemly posture. It is the kind of bag that a much younger and stronger woman might hang from her shoulders.
I looked away before she could catch my incredulous stare.
Though she was painfully bent, she emitted a discernable aura and a distinct bearing of grace. Our eyes inevitably met, there was an instant flashing smile, which bespoke a Pierian Spring of power.
I am around six feet tall, she about three feet eleven at the highest point of her deformed frame. I suppose that I will not adequately articulate the message that passed between us. She looked up and I down. She gave and I took: Was it, “This is my blessing, what’s yours?” or was it simply, “I’m OK, you’re OK?” All I really know is that rarely have I heard anything spoken so eloquently without the utterance of a single word.
Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sept 28, 2009
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