Let Me Tell You About the Accordian Man

One grey and chilly Spring afternoon I was walking through a large park in downtown Boston. I had gone into the city to file for a business license at City Hall. Getting there had been a bit of an ordeal; parking lots near the commuter rail in my neighborhood south of town had been filled early and, on a whim, I'd decided to drive into town and park at the one relatively inexpensive municipal garage. Fortunately, that had worked out okay but, after a half hour of maneuvering through urban traffic and then facing the twists and turns of bureaucratic red tape, I was feeling way off center as I found myself heading back to my parking space. I'd been trying to practice my exercise of looking for sparks of light in the faces of people I passed along the sidewalk - but it just wasn't working; I was too frazzled.
Just before the entrance to the garage, I passed down a stretch of walkway that, for some reason, was completely clear of pedestrians. There was only one other soul around: a small, elderly man wearing a wrinkled suit and wide brimmed hat. He was standing on a park bench playing a lively song on an accordian and singing something about "happy, happy, happy". I didn't recognize the song, but I did recognize the light.
There it was - the spark that I'd been looking for. I wasn't in any condition to find it, so it found me.
I reached into my pocket. There was only one dollar bill there ( I needed the twenty for parking), so I dropped it into his open, black satchel. "Thank you" I said. And it wasn't the dollar that made me feel so uplifted for the rest of the day. It was that little, gentle man, his sweet song, the light in his smile - and the great burst of connection that had traveled from him to me and back again as we connected in that simple, five second encounter.
I don't think there was anything particularly unusual about the old fellow. I don't believe he was some guru or angel in disguise ( athough... maybe ). I just think that what it was all about was the search; I'd been looking for light. And there it was. There it always is.
This makes me think about the foundational principal I read in my iPEC coaching manual: "Each person we meet is our teacher and student."
How amazing it is when we are caught unawares by these obvious truths.