Once upon a time there was a brave warrior traveling throughout the country with a camera, making a story about life and courage. Was the hero a singer, a rapper or a lover? Who ever knows? Probably all three. Maybe he was going to make a movie about something that at first he thought he knew nothing about. until he met her. And this is how it happened.
While he was sitting in the waiting station, along came another warrior, another courageous spirit who writes and paints her own stories but also likes to paint others’ too. Although there were a few empty seats, this traveler chose the one next to the movie maker. She wrestled with her suitcase as it landed to the ground with a thud and not looking around or up or down, she pulled out her phone and started to read a kindle, another type of story.
Then something happened that shifted their encounter. Perhaps the doctor-storyteller looked with interest at the large oversized suitcase beside him, holding his camera. Perhaps she forgot her watch and needed to know the time. Maybe he looked at her and saw something beautiful in her dark brown eyes, I know she did his. Most likely we’ll never know but for some reason they started talking. I think it was his strong and compassionate spirit that sang a song she wanted to hear too, don’t you?
He told her a story and then she told him one. Before you knew it, she said, “I’ll tell you what to make a movie about. Make a movie about my children, the story no one wants to hear. And then she told him that in her real life she was a child psychiatrist, and that 1 out of 4 children are sexually molested. Usually by a friend or family member. And that hurts and keeps on hurting. Less than 30% tell anyone, ever and that hurts too. How about making a movie about that? I’m weary of telling the same story over and over that no one ever really believes or wants to hear. Not the way you are listening now.”
And then something miraculous happened, he told his too. His story, his family friend, his whole life with a secret he kept that something dark and scary had happened to him when he was little, that he never told thinking that surely it was his fault, surely it must have been something he did. Never knowing it happened to his sister too until one day they broke their vow of silence to share this darkness of their childhood. When we parted, we were grateful. He that it was told for the first time his story, to a stranger, a courageous healer in an airport and me, that I had heard again. Heard, confirmed and validated a wrong that now together we could begin to make right. I told you earlier he saw something in my dark brown eyes that beckoned him to take a deep scary voyage into a place he barely knew. Together we did it with our courage hitched to a star, sitting in red plastic chairs in an airport by a camera with a lens recording the whole episode .