Plain feelings at train station
by Yen Feng
Seeing the light
Train stations, like airports, make plain momentary pockets of human emotion.
Wait long enough at one, and you get to see all types play out on this transitional, flattened stage. But standing among the moving crowd, I am responding to only one emotion. I am humbled by the constancy of love. In New York’s Grand Central Station, that emotion is further magnified by the diverse people that demonstrate it.
Take that Latino mother in the right corner, for example. When she sees her daughter come in from the gate, they hug and she clasps her head in her hands with jubilant tears. Their black curls are the same, but the mother’s hands are tougher, her eyes more grateful.
By the ticket booth, an Asian boy greets his father from a small distance. It is only their eyes that touch. But as they walk out the exit, I see the father put a tentative arm over the boy’s shoulder.
Every gesture I see is a gesture of love. Their waiting is a commitment, a promise to another. Even at the station docks, travelers who board and unboard must walk with full hearts.