The people we all know and most of us love

We all have those people that we see all the time.  Maybe we know their name -- maybe we don't.  They typically have a smile on their face and are eager to make acquaintance.  Busy folks typically brush on by to something more important; a passerby on occasion will stop by to have their day brightened for just a bit.

I've been thinking a lot about this lately.  The corner of West Paces and Northside Parkway was made famous as the corner of Robert the rose guys for the better part of 20 years.  This man stood on this corner almost every night and took such pride in selling flowers.  I never had occasion to buy flowers so never stopped to chat.  I knew people that did though, and he would carefully describe the best way to cut and store the roses as if they were a rare bottle of wine.  Sadly, Robert recently passed away and Atlanta lost a piece its heart that day.

But Robert isn't the only one of these people in my life.  Others have been sprinkled throughout my experience to remind me of what life is really about.  There was Edward, the real change guy, who faithfully sold homeless newspapers for years outside the Brooklyn Safeway in Seattle.  He always told me, "Have a nice day, sir" despite never having bought a newspaper from him.  In my office building, there is Dallas the security guard although I don't think he could stop a crime if one were to occur.  This man in his 70s faithfully graces the doors every day and knows everyone's name.  He has the same phrases he always uses like "going topside" or "they're waiting on you".  If you ever stop to chat, you likely won't be leaving for 20 minutes and will feel like you're being rude when you finally leave.  This kindred old man will surprise you with the occasional profane word and endear you with stories of his wife.  There's Johnny, who is stationed by the light on the exit ramp as I drive to Church.  I have never seen anyone smile so freely -- even though he has little in the way of possessions.  He's an avid Tech fan and always gives me "the rock" during our brief 45 second conversations.  He scrapes by on the kindness of those passing by, but on Easter morning he shared with me how he was helping those less fortunate than him.

I really wish I would have stopped just once to talk to Robert and become a minor player in his legacy.  Maybe I've finally learned that hurriedness is rarely as important or as necessary as it seems at the time.  Perhaps taking a few moments to be blessed will more than compensate for arriving a little late.  And just maybe, I will learn to treat others as these have treated me.



R.I.P Robert



http://www.ajc.com/news/atlanta/buckhead-mourns-robert-the-425926.html