I’ve known Donna since the last time I worked at the District, but never really got to KNOW her… know what I mean? So today on our slow journey to the lobby (I did say freight elevator) she asked me what I’ve been up to.

I made the assumption that she already knew I’d lost my son. So when I told her I was working on the fundraiser for my murdered son, she looked surprised. But then as I prepared myself for the usual sympathies and quick departure, she did something different.

She said, “I lost my son to murder too. I’m sorry you are going through this.” And instead of sympathy, I saw empathy in her eyes. She didn’t tear up. Though her face did turn a little red.

She then took the time to tell me what happened to her son. She said his murder is still unsolved. I asked her if it gets easier, and she said, “No. I’m sorry it doesn’t. Its been eleven years, and I still hurt. But you will become more comfortable with the burden over time.”

Then she asked me about my experience so far. And she listened. She didn’t wince and walk away. She didn’t cry for me. She didn’t spout any words of wisdom she read from a book.

She told me she would pray for me, and any time I wanted someone to listen, she would be there for me. I offered her the same. She hugged me, and we went our ways.

Once again, my God has reminded me that I am not alone… no matter where I am. Even when I am far from my friends and family, He is still there.

Even in a freight elevator.