Hope Is a Child

At Yet Another Street Corner Café

   11-14-15, around 6:00 p.m. Barcelona Time

   A young boy around (I'm guessing) six years old came up to the other side of the café table I was sitting at while staring blankly, I enjoyed a favorite passtime of mine: people-watching. He blinked at me from behind his Harry Potter-like thick framed glasses, a paperback in his hand with a fantasy illustration on the back cover. The kid was cute in his navy letterman prep sweater and dark hair helping the Harry Potter resemblance. 

   I smiled and said <<Hola>> in response. 

   One of the men he was with - his father I'm guessing by the similar characteristics and fashion sense, including glasses - asked me confusedly if I knew him. But, he stumbled over his words, stopping a couple times to internally debate whether or not to ask the question. I finally understood and replied, <<No, no I don't know (him)>>.

   The boy went back to his presumed father and a white-haired man - presumably his grandfather by how the brown blazered man and him were talking to each other before. The father apologized. 

   I said, <<No, no>> to mean <<It's nothing>>.

   But, I didn't get to tell themit was nice, nicet for someone to think they knew me, that I could fit-in here, that I could belong. Possibly. It was nice to have that interaction - a small human connection, no matter how brief. And, with a stranger nonetheless! It was nice to use my broken Spanish not in a structured environment, like a classroom or for ordering food. And, actually, it could have been Catalan that the man had used originally. . . 

   And, I didn't get to tell them that I thought I knew the book the boy was holding : it wasa Harry Potter book. I may not have known the boy, but I know his story very well. 

   The dark-haired boy, his father, and his grandfather walked inside the café. Thank you to them. I doubt I'll ever get to tell then, doubt they'd ever think - well, then, they thought they were bothering me. Ha! 

  They left me smiling and with a little more of something that we can all use a little more of : Hope. 

BTW : This blog post was originally written in pen on napkins (small ones I might add) from the café mentioned above. Does it get more author-y than that?!?!