Her name was Faith.
"I love that," I said, and I do love the name. It is such a hopeful name, in this case, Faith's mother is also Faith, and waited until her fifth of five children to share the blessing.
This particular Faith offered up her thoughts, very grounded thoughts, on the ridiculous realities of the neighborhood we live, things like the bedbug scare and the storm.
"It was great to see people in New York have to walk single file because of the snow, have to be patient," she said with a sneaky smile.
I laughed in agreement. "So true," I said, "I'd almost think Bloomberg planned it if I didn't know better," I said, quoting me back to me as I often do now that I write a column, write various articles based solely on what I think. Scary.
Just like with the bedbugs or the snow, things often out of our control, Faith is a believer in moving through things, moving forward, letting go of expectations.
"Uch," she said of buying expensive sunglasses, very expensive anything, "then, of course you lose it right away or something happens." She shook her head no, in vehement agreement with herself, the best possible person one can agree with.
I gave Faith a gold star for her great attitude, for her deep, smiling engagement in the conversation. Maybe it's all in a name after all.
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