© 2009 Karen Van Fossan
Ever have an encounter that revealed the meaning of life -- or at least put your own life into perspective? Here's mine:
I'm walking through a parking lot in Boulder, Colorado. Ahead, I spot a van -- a 60s-style van, painted in pastels, back end covered in bumper stickers. The van is in my path, in the direction I'm already going, so I head that way. Come to find out, the van won't move. The passenger leans on her open door, trying to walk the van forward.
Then, all of a sudden, a tidy-looking sedan pulls up. A tidy-looking woman gets out. She doesn't say a word. She just steps to the rear of the van. And she pushes. Together, the three of us push. Nothing.
So -- out pops the driver. She pushes at the front, leaning on her open door. The driver says to the passenger, "We can do it. We are strong women!" We keep pushing. We push some more. And can you believe? We get that van moving. All four of us, working together.
But as soon as we're done, the driver and the passenger jump up into their seats. Ready to go. They never tell us thanks. They never even wave. Then I understand -- Never once, this whole time, did they ever turn around. They never knew we were helping them. They never knew there were two strong women at the rear. What I'm trying to say is...
I'm saying a person can never be sure who's back there.