A Noble Soul

You never know who or what will inspire you as you tool through life.  Could be anything…a kid, an average individual, or simply nature showing off, your heart lifting on its own steam.

There’s a man in his 70s, white-haired, distinguished, who belongs to my library.  Like me, he goes early in the morning, curled in a corner immersed in a book.  We nod, being the only ones gracing the room, before going back to our respective reads.

Then I saw him en route, seeing he had a cane, and walked rather slowly.  I stopped to say, “Hi…guess you’re going to the lib.”

He broke into smiles and said, “I’ve just joined and I’m so happy.  What a lovely place to go to, especially when you’re not all that well…stopping there.

I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, and couldn’t help noticing a sadness had replaced his original glee.

“Are you okay?”  I finally made myself ask, intrusion something I’m almost too aware of.

He looked at me with blue eyes singed at their corners and said, “I’m not in the best of health, and feel sometimes, I’m too old to be there…reading is for the young, not those on their way to another place.”

My heart felt as if it was a walnut about to be cracked.  How hard we are on ourselves.  It’s bad enough he has health issues, but to shoot himself because of them as if it were a crime, is just plain wrong.

Who does he remind you of?  Me…who thinks she deserves the chair because of her hearing loss.

I didn’t reply at first, but then said, “I think it’s wonderful you’re a member.  I noticed you right way…you are so imposing the way you sit, like Jefferson, pouring over your books.”

“JEFFERSON?” he found this remark astonishing as he hobbled along.  images.jpg

“Yes…he was about your age when he sold his collection to the Library of Congress.  There’s a famous quote by him…I Cannot Live Without Books.”  images-1

This man whose name I still don’t know, lit up as if he’d swallowed a candle.  He merely needed someone to point out a strength to take on that sadness.

Two months down the road, when I see him in the reading room, that nod has turned into a glorious grin.  He’s there every morning, his white hair picking up the sun streaming through the long, French windows.

Strength comes over me in his presence, knowing we all eventually suffer from something that comes with some strain of grace, if we take the time to seize it.



About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Faith, friendship, History, New York City, religion, women, words, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to A Noble Soul

  1. micklively says:

    Inspiring writers and inspiring readers make for uplifting company. At the perfect dinner party in my mind there will be seats for Arundhati Roy and Paul Davies.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, thanks for a great story to start the week off. You said just the right thing to uplift his spirit.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Elle Knowles says:

    We always think our problems are bad and then we look at someone who has worse. Having your health makes your worse problems seem to shrink in size a bit. A kind word goes a long way Susannah, as you have found out and continue to put into place. ~Elle

    Liked by 1 person

  4. A great life lesson!


  5. Lynn says:

    I had a similar experience this past week Susannah & felt compelled to write about it. Our perspective is altered when we meet these “noble souls”. Mine was Anne.


  6. Why do we beat ourselves up? Why can’t we be our own cheerleaders? I don’t have those answers, but I do know the universe seems to know just when you need a reminder.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I do it to myself without mercy, this I know, like it’s not bad enough I can’t hear. One feels less and the masses who have no qualms agreeing arrive in droves. If I lose one more friend out of sheer impatience you’ll hear me scream in Baltimore.


  7. Just beautiful, Susannah. It’s great you have a place like that to go. I just love reading your writing. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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