I Saw Maggie

I saw Maggie. She was sitting on a bench in the lobby of the middle school. Her back was against the wall. Her hair was shining white in the daylight. She was reading a crossword puzzle book.

There were kids coming and going. There were sounds of childrens' voices and musical instruments warming up coming down the hall. The sun slanted in thru the windows and threw golden trapezoids of brightness onto the floor. Periodically, a teacher left the office on some errand to the other end of the school.

It was fitting, I thought, that I should see Maggie here. Her teaching years would have made her comfortable in this place, although I doubt that in her years she ever sat on lobby benches. Rather she would have been the one running the errands, or she would have been standing in the front of a classroom behind closed doors teaching her kids to write and speak well.

I squinted my eyes and looked harder. And of course, it wasn't her. But for a moment I thought I saw Maggie -- a memory out of the distant past.

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