OK. We followed a blind person into the subway today. She lives in our apartment complex but we had never met her before. We were waiting near her for the train and she could hear The Boy beginning to have a meltdown. She is lovely. She announces that she is a music teacher and that she'd like to sing The Boy a song. Right there in the subway.
"What song should I sing him?" she asks.
My father has just taught The Boy a song that morning. So I suggest this song to our new friend. And she delightfully obliges. She has a strong voice, and people look around to enjoy her singing to our Boy.
Only after we changed trains did Laurel suggest to me that requesting "Three Blind Mice" was perhaps not a good idea.
She was grace-filled. And kind. She sang about the mice, and then Jingle Bells, let The Boy touch her Braille New York Times and she gave us her details so that we could be in contact.
My first words to her will probably be one of apology. Although I suspect that she will say: "Think nothing of it."
Little moments of grace.