I met Isabelle at 23 years old. It was a beautiful sunny day in June; even though I didn’t see it that way back then, I didn’t want to leave my bed or the apartment, but it was necessary; I was going to college and working after. I was so close to dropping out that my mom paid me to finish it. At the end of the day, I kept going even though that wasn’t what I wanted to do. My mom was excited to see me waking up every day to go to school, and I’d say I’m one of those kids who think school is not for them, maybe because I said that to myself way too many times.
I used to take the 21A or 21C Brimely bus towards Kennedy station from Monday to Friday around 7:00 A.M. to 7:15 A.M. One day in June, a woman in her late 50s, about 5’6 tall, around 140 pounds, with long brown hair, brown eyes, and fair complexion, got on the bus. Was Isabelle. The bus was significantly empty, but she sat beside me for some reason. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Well! My first thought was, why did she sit beside me when the bus was nearly empty? I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to sit alone with plenty of space. I was looking out the window, and a lot was happening outside, as usual. I didn’t want to indicate that she should start a conversation.
With no offence, talking to strangers was the last thing I wanted to do that day. Isabelle started to speak. I didn’t know what she was talking about at the beginning. Respectfully, I gave brief answers and then turned my head to the window afterwards. She kept trying to conversate; at a point, I felt like I should listened to what she had to say. I turned my head, and she had all my attention by then.
She was fascinating; we talked about many things, like our trips. She talked a lot about God and her religion, Catholic. I told her that my family from my mom’s side is catholic and from my dad’s is Christian, but I don’t have any religion I mentioned. She said things quite surprising to me; for example, she was from the same country as me; she was born in the same city as me, and to me, that was unreal, exciting and surprising all at the same time. I couldn’t even believe it for a moment. I enjoyed talking to her; it felt good, almost relaxing.
My stop is approaching, she said, which I felt strange for some reason. Before she got off, she invited me to the church, where I had no longer been interested since I was 16, and I used to be part of the church chorus for a bit. She also gave me three things: her telephone number and a bible, which she emphasized was small and the only one she carries when she goes out because her other ones are too big; what is inside is all the important, she said. And a pink paper sheet with a tree form in the middle, which I like. Time passed, and I never called her, even though I sometimes wanted to. But I didn’t. Maybe it is a thing of life.
Ten years later, shortly after I moved out of my apartment, I was looking at the pink paper sheet and the Bible with her number in, very attentively. I called Isabelle’s number, but no one answered. Probably, that’s not even her number anymore. After ten years, I realized who she was.
I’m sure Isabelle remembers about that day, but who knows?
At the time, I did not give it much importance, but I’m not going to lie. I did something that I shouldn’t have. I wondered many things, including whether I should have called her sooner than ten years later because of that day’s experience or if that was the initiation of something.
I have told three people about this experience. The last one asked if Isabelle was even a real person, and, honestly, was she? Well! She gave me a telephone number besides other things, so I told myself that. The second person told me it was probably a sign for me to go to church, and the third person told me not to talk to her: “We are in Canada; we never know.” Everyone gave me their opinion from their point of view and perspective.
That experience taught me to be more open-minded, pay attention to the small things; there are no coincidences or causalities, and be more positive. Isabelle seemed like a great person for what I knew about her.
Also, great surprises can happen at any given time. It was quite a surprise for me, the similitudes of me and Isabelle. In the same way, something magic can happen just like that.
Things happened the way they did for a good reason. I know it; I did what I did and learned what I had to learn.
