Smile From A Stranger

A simple happy moment transforms Nora’s world

Phew! I’d made it, but only just! It was Palm Sunday in Jerusalem and, due to misjudging the time I needed to walk from the hotel to Christ Church in the Old City, I was almost the last person in the procession of people entering the church to the joyous music of “Hosannah In The Highest”.

As a result, I was seated in the front row, on the chair next to the aisle, as part of a packed congregation.

At least I’d be able to see what was going on!

“Any regrets?” James, my husband, asked me 18 months before.

Tears came to my eyes as I looked at the man whom I had loved for so many years, but whose cancer meant that he now only had a short time to live.

“No,” I said.“have you?” “Yes,” he said with that lovely, gentle smile of his.

Just for a moment, I dreaded to hear what he meant – but the smile took away that fear.

“Go on, then,” I urged, with a nervous laugh.“what are you going to admit to?”

The smile spread to his eyes.

“That trip to Jerusalem.all that time I spent planning it, and...”

I laughed again. Partly through relief that his regret wasn’t any failing on my part; partly because I could fully understand him.

James was a marvel at planning holidays.

He had spent hours and hours searching the internet to get the best flight and hotel deals; to decide where and when to go, and a host of other details that would have made the visit a truly memorable one.

The cancer had robbed him of the chance to see his plans fulfilled.

He paused, and the look on his face changed.

“Nora,” he said earnestly. “Can I ask you to do something when I’m gone?”

“It depends,” I said, hoping that it would be something that I could do.

Then I realised that James wouldn’t ask me to do something that I couldn’t do. “What is it?” “Please, will you go to Jerusalem, and take me with you in your heart?”

Now I was in Jerusalem. It had taken James more than one attempt to persuade me, but in the quietly determined way that he had, he eventually convinced me that the plans he had made would only require a few minor changes for me to do it.

In the months after his death, the idea grew on me, one of the reasons being that my lovely husband had enlisted the help of our children.

They admitted that when their dad had first put the idea to them they’d had their doubts.

But James wasn’t one to give up on an idea once he had it fixed in his mind, and wasn’t one to hesitate in using a gentle form of blackmail to get his way. Once he had pointed out just how important it was to him, they prevailed on me. And I’m glad they did. The flights that he had chosen were at good times. The hotel was lovely.

I was part of a small group whose itinerary was a mixture of planned tours and ample free time to spend investigating the many different aspects of this ancient city.

Palm Sunday was one of those free days, which is why I had made my own way up to Christ Church. Had James been with me in body, we would have been there in plenty of time.

But he wasn’t, which is why I was in this front-row seat next to the aisle, feeling very exposed.

The service was lovely, and I realised that I had one of the best seats in the church: I could see everything that was going on with no peering over the heads of taller people in front of me.

I loved the way that I could see the minister’s passion as he reminded us of that day, over 2,000 years ago, when Jesus had entered Jerusalem over a carpet of palm branches placed there by an adoring crowd.

James had often smiled at me as he noticed me watching people – something that I loved doing. He described it as “being interested in people; not being nosy at all”.

That interest was especially satisfied as, towards the end of the service, people were led out to receive Communion at the front of the church.

My seat meant I had a prime view of people of all shapes, sizes and nationalities. It was fascinating!

It was as a row behind me was being led forward that I noticed the couple. He was tall and white-haired; she looked younger and was

As they walked forward, he turned, smiled lovingly at her and she returned his loving smile.my eyes pricked with tears

dark-haired.as they walked forward, he was in front of her, but then he turned, smiled lovingly at her and gently ushered her in front of him.

As he did so, she returned his loving smile.

I think that it was the simplicity and tenderness of his action that reminded me of the love that James had always shown to me, and my eyes pricked with tears. We had been so blessed. As that group of people walked back to their seats, the man was at the back of the line. I don’t understand why, but I watched him as he walked towards me.

As I did, our eyes met and I smiled at him. His face crinkled into a gentle smile and he mouthed,“hello” as he walked past.

It was a brief moment of...what? Connection? Encouragement? Something to do with that special day, perhaps?

I don’t know, but as I walked back to the hotel after the service, I knew that, because of that smile, something had changed in me.

Now, as I write this, I’m still not certain what that change will mean to me. But what I do know is that I was blessed by a smile.

Well, actually, two smiles. One from my loving husband, as he encouraged me to take him to Jerusalem in my heart.

And another from a man who will probably have no idea how much that simple action of his had blessed me.

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