What Really Counts

I waited in line for over an hour to vote this afternoon.

In all the years I have been casting my vote, I don’t think I have ever waited that long.

I expected to hear quite a bit of grousing (yes, I use the word grousing) from the long line of voters who were waiting outside our polling location. It was chilly and more than a few of us were not exactly prepared to be out in the cold for such a long wait without adequate warm clothing.

Fab Hub texted me to let me know that he and Zilla were home safely and said to stay warm. I returned the text and said, “We are pretty chilly.” (I’d love to put the cute little cell phone screen shot here, but I have yet to master that skill. The instructions that my phone claims will produce the screen shot are clearly a lie.)

Anyway, Fab Hub – always unwilling to let an opportunity to be snarky in my general direction – replied:

FH: We? Are you expressing your royalty?

Me: No. We as in We the People. We the People who are standing here together to vote talking about long lines, power outages and the Nor’easter that is about to dump one to three inches of snow on us this week.

Apparently, when you stand in line to vote, you begin to include phrases from key historic documents in America’s history in your text conversations.

At that moment, one of the volunteers came out to let us know that the wait was about an hour once we got to the door of the building. From where I stood, that building was still a good ten to fifteen yards away and the line was moving so slowly that a snail could have easily overtaken us on his way to the Burger King next door.

The woman in front of me left and said she was going to skip it and go home. A woman behind me said she was going home to get long underwear and a coat and return when she was better prepared. The gentleman behind me chuckled and commented that the line just got shorter, but then called out “Wait, are you Democrats or Republicans?” That made several smile and laugh.

While we waited, I noticed something. People did indeed have their cell phones out and were doing things like returning phone calls found on their voice mail or making alternate arrangements with spouses and babysitters to get kids home from school or to their evening music lessons. Some answered e-mail and checked their various social media outlets. Some played whatever game they had loaded on their phone.

But while all that was happening, everyone was talking to everyone else around them in line. While we all had something to do on our phone at one point or another, we still passed the time together. When one person made a phone call, others quieted down a bit so he or she could hear the person on the other end. After the call, conversation would resume. The overall atmosphere was light, friendly, and comfortable. I fully expected to hear people complain and whine about being cold or how long it was taking.

But that did not happen.

People who arrived greeted and were greeted by those they knew who were already in line. One gentleman showed up and talked to another about a phone message he just received from him. It was interesting to hear them talk about the same issue that was discussed as the phone message was left just twenty minutes or so earlier. Nobody pushed or shoved or barked about who was first in line. People were nice. They were polite. They smiled.

Imagine that…human beings talking and smiling and enjoying each other’s company. Go figure. Some were already acquainted; others were complete strangers. But no matter the circumstances, there was a distinct sense of camaraderie and calm.

I think it was one of the nicest hours I’ve ever spent while waiting in line in the cold.

Why is it that on another day in another location people would be cranky and rude and jockey for position in line ahead of the lady in the wheelchair just because they got there first and were in a hurry? Maybe it is because we are all still acutely aware of how serious the effects of last week’s storm were on so many and how relatively trivial an hour in line was. Maybe it is because we were all there to take our turn at exercising one of our most important rights and privileges as American citizens when so much is at stake for our Nation’s people. Maybe people are just really intrinsically good after all.

Whatever the reason, I spent a few minutes this evening reflecting on the things that really count. Our votes will be counted, yes. But more than that, what counts is having the privilege of casting those votes. What counts is having a place to go to get warm long underwear and a coat to come back and wait in line later. What counts is seeing people smile and laugh together and entertain the children who were along with their parents rather than cast disapproving glances at them for making noise. What counts is that there are people like the gentleman in front of me who was voting out of district so that he could escort the wheelchair-bound woman with him to her polling place because she could not drive herself. What counts is having a warm pair of slippers to put on after standing outside on cold concrete for an hour.

My experience this afternoon was powerful. I am truly awed at the number of blessings and the number of beautiful moments I have witnessed that I am able to count.