Alike

On a particular day of the week when I go to work, I look across to the far end of the parking lot from where I park.  The car is usually in a different parking space, but it's always there.  It's not there on any other day of the week.  I look over at it because it reminds me of my own station in life.

I see the car, but don't go very near it.  Only once have I passed by it.  It was the first time I saw it on the parking lot.  I was on my way to Dairy Queen close by my workplace and didn't see it because I was looking the opposite direction.  So, I almost bumped into it.  It was hard to see inside the car because kerchiefs and dirty, worn towels covered the windows.

Inside the car was all the man owned - a couple of bundles of clothes, close-to-disintegrated sandals, coats with holes, bottles, food wrapped in paper, a can of beans or two.  The man himself was gray-headed, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, heavily bearded, and asleep (at midday).  The paint on the car was splotched, showing the paint of a couple of different layers, and looked to be a model from the early 90s.

Of course, I wonder what his life's story is.  But, no matter what it is, I am sure it is the human story.  Something brings us to the place we are in life.  Good things and bad come to us regardless of our position in life or of our location along the journey that takes us to our final destination.  I have a feeling the man is doing his best.  He may even be happy, living life with no regrets.

He and I are alike in that.  Whatever people see on the outside, my goal is to be content, doing the best I know how.