Late Thursday afternoon bus stop observations:
1)The bus I'm on pulls up to a stop that is so busy it has to wait to find a spot.
Beside us is an Egged bus disgorging mostly soldiers on to an already crowded double size bus shelter.
The soldiers and national service women mill around the open baggage compartment stuffed with a mountain of oversized backpacks and kitbags.
Around the buses, like a school of small cleaner fish, private cars dart in and out, collecting soldiers and civilian national service volunteers.
2) As our bus stands there waiting for a turn to pull up to the stop we see a 30ish soldier grab his massive kitbag and runs off to a waiting vehicle parked at the very edge of the long line of cars swarming around the bus.
A woman in a floaty floral dress jumps out and starts rushing towards the approaching soldier.
They embrace just as he reaches the tail lights, a fierce hug like life itself.
Suddenly she disengages, runs to the car (engine still running) and grabs a toddler out of the back seat, face shining, lighting up in a huge grin and enthusiastic shouts as his mother hands him over to his soldier father.
The three of them hug again, holding on tight for what seems like an eternity, the intense summer heat, the burning sun, the hurly burly of the cars and buses and toing and froing melting to a blur, the whole world shrinking down to this little family's reunion.
3) Those of us on the bus waiting to pull in are serendipitous observers in all this, as though watching a scene from a film playing out in real time right in front of us.
It feels almost indecent to be spectators at such an intimate family moment but neither can we tear our eyes away.
They are complete strangers but they are also our family and their joy is our joy.
At least that's how it seemed to me.
Standing near the driver as I prepare to disembark from the bus I have a ringside spot. The intensity of emotion washes over me, envelops me. The joy mixed with relief from the mother, the pure ecstatic happiness of the toddler, the all encompassing love that is obvious even though the father has his back to us.
I want to capture this moment forever, bottle it, preserve it for eternity.
4) Finally the previous bus pulls away and our bus pulls in.
As I climb down the bus steps I can see that the family are still embracing.
An elderly Hareidi lady is getting off the bus behind me and almost stumbles into me as I turn the wrong way, because I can't look away.
She and I had chatted a bit on the bus. We are both waiting for the same bus connection.
"Why are you looking the wrong way? The buses come from the other direction."
Standing behind me on the bus she hadn't seen a thing, focused on getting down the steep bus steps.
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