Last October, when I was jotting down names of people I wanted to write letters of gratitude to for the Boston Marathon 26-week countdown, the list itself made me smile. Some were family members, some were dear friends I see all the time, and some were people who had been deeply important in earlier chapters of my life but whom I don’t see much anymore. And then there was a woman from our neighborhood whose joy was so contagious that even passing her on the street could brighten your day.
I only knew her first name — Jill — because Jason had once stopped to ask her while passing her on a walk. But if you asked anyone who regularly walks around our neighborhood about the very happy person who always greets you on the stairs or while climbing the steep hill on 54th, they would know exactly who you meant.
So, I wrote her a letter. Since I didn’t have her phone number or email, I printed it out instead of sending it digitally like I did with most of the others. Then, because I was in and out of town after the Boston Marathon, the letter sat on my desk for a few weeks.
But last Sunday (5/10), as I headed down to meet my Sunday morning running group, I grabbed the letter on the chance that I might see her on the stairs. Sure enough, there she was.
I introduced myself and explained why this complete stranger was handing her a letter. As I told her, she started to tear up, which immediately made me tear up too. Then she asked if she could give me a hug. We hugged, exchanged phone numbers, and went on with our mornings.
And then this past Sunday, Jason and I went to her house for tea. We had the most wonderful time getting to know her, and it turns out she truly is as extraordinary as she seemed from those brief encounters on the stairs.
I am grateful for the Boston Marathon for so many reasons, but especially for the way it opened doors for me to reconnect with old friends and to make new ones. It truly has been the gift that keeps on giving.
