Like A White Dove

It was around 8:30 in the morning.

We were waiting for our college bus when she rode past on her bicycle, evidently on her way to school. She must have been around 12, and it must have been the day for PE (physical education) classes. She was in her pristine white school uniform, white socks and white shoes. Even the ribbons holding her hair in a pigtail was white.

She was like a pretty white dove.

The pothole must have been deeper than her estimate, and the bicycle suddenly swayed. Though she regained her balance quickly, the damage had been done. The books and lunchbox strapped to the saddle came undone. The box fell on the road with a loud clang, split open and out came fluffy yellow lemon rice.

Passerbys and some of us boys gasped.

But, what we witnessed in the next few moments was a lesson in grace and dignity. She braked, quietly parked her cycle by the side and descended. In the sweetest voice, she asked a perplexed boy standing by;

“Please, can you help?”

Maybe it was her confidence or the sweet tone of her voice, or both, the boy readily consented. Kneeling, they salvaged what was remaining of her lunch. Though so many eyes were on her, she did not miss a beat. Gently, with dignity, they gathered everything together.

Finally, strapping the box and books back on her saddle, she politely thanked the boy and rode away.

Though it is almost 24 years now, I can see her riding away. She was like a white dove, all grace, purity and dignity.

I hope someone shared their lunch with her that day.

But then, who wouldn’t, with a pretty, white dove?