Austins in Thailand

We were stopped at the red light. Cars and motorcycles; trucks and buses. The time clock next to the light was ticking down in bright green. We all knew how much time we had.

She was in the back of a pickup. Twelve years old? She looked cold in the early morning light. Her younger brother wiggled next to her. Where had she come from? Where was she going? She looked around as if she were seeing things for the first time. Maybe she was from the mountains going shopping for supplies with her family. . . The countdown was 59 seconds.

A young boy was walking from car to car, strings of sweet smelling jasmine to sell. I see him at this same intersection day after day; night after night. Dirty tee-shirt and worn jeans; jasmine perfectly white on the string. Why isn’t he in school? Where is his mother? The countdown was 31 seconds.

A newly washed Mercedes in front; a dirty truck behind. The temple on the mountain in the distance glowed gold under a clear blue sky. The countdown was 19 seconds.

Time seemed to stop. The crush of humanity rushing to stand still with the clock counting down. Down to zero. Down to eternity. Down to a hope sung loud and clear by creation all around us. Down to a grace springing up for all to see. Down to an existence on earth – living or dying; heaven or hell. But does the jasmine boy hear the songs of hope? Does the pickup girl see the grace? What about the business man in his Mercedes in front of me? What about the teenagers weaving to the front of the line on their motorcycles? What about me trapped in the car with the light ticking down?

Eventually the clock ticked down to zero. The motorcycles roared into the distance. The jasmine boy stood on the roadside waiting for the next red light. The pickup with the girl turned and I lost sight of her. I drove on thinking of the faces and lives of just a few caught by the light with time ticking down.

Time ticking down.

 Note:  Look for this article in an upcoming issue of Light and Life Magazine!