Hidden Talents, Tiny Dancer

Before I begin my reflection on this photo and wax poetic about this young man I stealthy (and, yeah, maybe creepily) snuck a photo of, I'll ask you to take a look at him. Make some judgments about him as he is there, frozen on the ladder, stocking jars of baby food onto the shelves. Who IS he? Do you like him? Is he a nice person? What does he do in his free time? What special talents, if any, do you suspect he has?

I was in a local Shoprite yesterday, turning the corner from the organic teas aisle (oh, ginger tea. just oooh.) and I heard music. There was music piping overhead through the store, interspersed with announcements about fish fillets for sale and reminders to stock up on salt because 'snow is in the forecast, shoppers' but this was not the store's music I heard. This was different. It was just a voice. HIS voice. Singing "Tiny Dancer" acapella. And it was so very lovely. And I have no need for baby food or diapers, but I lingered in the aisle, nonetheless, pretending to be comparing the prices of wipes just so I could listen and quietly sing along, too. (Very quietly. Though it's one of my favorite songs, I'd instantly ruin the moment if I joined in. Singing is not one of my talents. At all.)

It was a simple moment. A lovely one that I feel blessed to have caught. For just a minute of my day, I got to hear a beautiful song sung by a beautiful voice coming from a rather surprising source. And it was a simple but profound reminder that our gifts don't have to be our day jobs and our day jobs don't have to be a gift.