“We were driving home. I was sitting in the back left seat of the car. Absentmindedly, I was listening to the coversation my mom was having with a family friend. She was also in the car with us, right next to me.
I don’t even remember what it was about. But the car in the right lane, slightly in front of us, caught my eye. It was night time but for some reason the driver just caught my attention. He had blond hair, and kept on running his hand through his hair aggressively. As we slowly passed him I watched as he kept wiping his face, switching arms while driving and then running his hand through his hair again.
He looked extremely stressed out. So stressed out that it seemed like something terrible just happened or was about to happen. And I couldn’t help but watch him as our car drove by. He even caught the attention of my family friend who paused in the middle of her conversation as she glanced at him.
It just got me thinking. About what he might be going through and the weird thing is, it felt like such a common sight. With the recession and everything going on, from commercials to people we know, those actions showing frustration have become a common almost like symbol.
A symbol of the times the world is going through, families are going through, what our economy was going through.
We all know that’s how people express frustration but I feel as though it’s become something common in most households. Or at least in many households.
The first thing that popped into my head while watching him was that he probably lost his job. I just felt bad for this random guy driving his car looking as though he had no idea what to do. Couple minutes later I had forgotten about him and went on thinking about my own problems.
And he might have gone on to screaming in his car or driving to his friend’s house or tried avoiding the problem. Or he might have gone on and started crying or even gotten into an accident.(insh’Allah not)
I’ll never find out.
I guess there really isn’t a point to this post. But thinking back the experience did make me feel insignificant.
To somebody else I’m that guy with the blond hair stressing about my problems and wishing the world would stop and help.
Okay so instead of blond hair I have a scarf. And I’m a girl…despite screaming and sneezing like a guy.
But do you get what I mean?
In those 30 seconds I saw into a stranger’s life. I didn’t see much but it didn’t seem much different from mine. I don’t know how his story will end and most of you out there will never know how my story ends.
We’ve all got our own stories to worry about.
But there’s 6.7 billion other stories going on at the same time. Some starting and others ending.
While I feel insignificant and even feel bad for those that need help but can’t find any, it feels good to know that each of these stories is at least significant to God. Because they are.”


