The Silence Between Us
Almost every week, I share a “stroller roll” from the bakery with the precious little one I nanny.
Some weeks, we get baguettes, loaves, and/or treats, but we never miss a beat with splitting a French roll before continuing our walk along the 5 Points Streets.
It’s my favorite weekly rhythm and routine. It is the time of the week when she and I are our quietest (outside of nap time, of course). We delightfully share bread and the silence between us as the sparrows dance around the stroller wheels and my feet, enjoying the crumbs we leave;
they are the music we are attuned to alongside the cars passing. In these minutes and moments, time stills.
My little buddy does not speak any words verbally, yet I watch and feel her communicate intentionally with me daily. At the breaking of the bread, her hands begin to reach toward me; her eyes follow suit, first looking at the bread and then at me. I know exactly what she is communicating.
This continues for the next ten minutes; we like to savor our bread and eat it slowly. Her hands come together between bites to sign “more” to me. I respond and watch a smile run across her face; a smile, I return.
The silence between us holds a love we have never had to speak verbally.
…
As I write these words, I am sitting at the coffee shop that knows me more than any other walls of this city. The man in front of me is recording a video to a loved one as he signs to speak. It’s hard for me not to notice the expression on his face on the screen; the love, passion, and intention are palpable and leave me, again, smiling. A few moments prior, he asked me to watch his laptop for a moment through mouthing the words to me. Two years ago, I only knew the sign “thank you” that I’d use to communicate with one of the kind, gentle custodians at the school where I taught. I always wish I had learned more. “Thank you” is what this gentleman signed back to me after I agreed to keep an eye on his things. On the way back, he touched my shoulder and signed it again to me. I wish I knew how to sign “you’re welcome” back to him, but our smiles seemed to convey what I didn’t yet know to communicate with a specific sign.
The silence between us held a simple kindness.
I hoped to see his smile again before leaving the coffee shop.
…
When I started nannying, I learned that signing is something many people choose to teach babies, as they can pick up on this form of communication often earlier than they can verbally speak words. The only signs added to my repertoire are the ones seen in books like Baby’s First Signs, words like please, more, up, open, read, water, eat, drink, and most importantly, I love you. My little buddy’s favorite and most recently learned “sign” is blowing a kiss. I am unsure if it is actually considered a sign, but it’s an act of non-verbal kindness. It mimics the sign for thank you. That feels right to me.
To those who show kindness to me, whether a stranger or friend, I want to tell them “I love you” and “thank you” at the same time. For I sincerely believe kindness is the greatest gift we can offer to others. I am challenged, though, by the thought that much kindness and love can be conveyed without any words being exchanged. I am a words person, through and through. However, I am learning more and more that silence has the opportunity to speak loudly.
In your week, in moments with strangers and loved ones, I hope you bear witness to non-verbal signs of love, grace, kindness, and peace. Maybe, just maybe, make eye contact with the person passing by you on the street; let your eyes soften, your hand lift in a wave, and your smile convey a genuine glee.
Then, maybe, just maybe, write about it.
Words I Have Been Paying Attention To:
The poem “Kindness” by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer in the anthology The Path to Kindness: Poems of Connection and Joy is one that I read out loud to my friends this past weekend, as it makes me think of them.
Consider the tulip, How long ago Someone’s hands planted a bulb And gave to this place A living scrap of beauty, How it rises every spring Out of the same soil, Which is, of course, Not at all the same soil, But new. Consider the six red petals, The yellow at the center, The soft green rubber of the stem, How it bows to the world. How, the longer you sit beside the tulip, The more you want you bow, too. It is this way with kindness: Someone plants in someone else A bit of beauty— A kind word, perhaps, or a touch The gift of their time or their smile. And years later, in that inner soil, That beauty emerges again, Pushing aside the dead leaves, Insisting on loveliness, A celebration of the one who planted it, The one who perceives it, and The fertile place where it has grown
Prompts & Questions:
Pay attention to non-verbal communication this week. What non-verbal communications do you notice that convey kindness and/or love? Choose one and write a poem based on that specific non-verbal cue.
Who has planted bulbs within you? Write an ode to an individual or a letter to them in honor of the love they have planted into you.
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Words for Your Week:
As you carry on into this week, may your days be filled with words that encourage you, laughter that heals you, and moments of beauty that pull your attention in and bring you to slow down.
May you know that you, yourself, are worth paying attention to.