There I was, at the lobby coffee shop at the LAX Hilton, waiting in line for my cup of Venti drip when I saw a man and his wife. They were in their mid to late 40's. The couple looked out of place. My first thought: They must be one of the few thousand passengers stranded at LAX because one of the runways was shut down. Some international airline must've supplied them with a free night's stay at a hotel and a breakfast voucher -- trying to apologize for the inconvenience of stranding them in America for one extra day.
In the man's hand was a tray... two tiny cups of espresso and two tiny crossiants. To them, that was their comfort food. Being a few thousand miles away from home, they found a hint of safety and comfortness in the form of two pieces of bread and two cups of brown water. The couple was obviously from Europe. Perhaps Italy...or Sicily. I couldn't tell. But they had no desire for an extravagant meal. At that moment in time...they wanted nothing more than to go back home, to their little hole in the wall...to sit down, sip their cafe and enjoy their little pastry.
Standing about five feet away, I empathized the couple's brief moment of satisfaction. I saw in this couple, what Joyce and I went through the morning we came across a McDonald's in Italy that actually served an Egg McMuffin. There is no replacement for this type of comfort...for this type of hominess. Regardless of where you are...who you're with...or how much money you have...there are just those one or two things in life which you can firmly and honestly call your own. That cup of espresso...that crossiant...that brief moment in time, belonged to that man and wife.
And for a brief moment in time... I felt I was back in Europe...
1 comment:
Magnifico!
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