One Thousand Paper Cranes

Seattle’s metro bus system will never cease to amaze me. In the few short months since I’ve been utilizing public transportation to get to and from work every day, I have definitely seen some strange things. And I've found that no matter how engrossed I try to seem in my book, or listening to my iPOD, or even staring off into space pretending to be midly retarded in an attempt to discourage anyone from engaging into a conversation, there are just some things that cannot be ignored. Just a few examples of the things I've witnessed follow.

• A super hot guy go into total road rage mode, get out of his car and proceed to scream at and punch the front of the bus.


• An incredibly intoxicated homeless man who gets on in front of Larry’s Market, harasses women on the bus, and then is generally kicked off by the next stop. I see him about once a week.


• A woman who treats her mini-Dachshund like a human child. It wears a diamond collar and I have never once seen it in the same outfit. Although it has a leash, the dog is not allowed to walk, but must be carried everywhere.


• Teenagers who think it’s appropriate to smoke cigarettes ON the bus, and then throw royal fits when they are reminded that this activity is illegal.


• Far too many people who are so obese that they are forced to use wheelchairs to get around.

These things, I have managed to get used to, and can generally tune them all out with my IPOD and a book. But this morning on my way to work I experienced by far the strangest thing of all.

At First Avenue and Denny Way, a little Japanese man got on the bus. I think I noticed him because he was wearing what appeared to be a colorful child’s snow cap, complete with a little puff ball on the end. With him, he dragged one of those cart on wheels that are used to carry groceries. In his hands he carried several origami crane birds. Damn, I shouldn’t have made the mistake of looking. Immediately, the man stretched his shriveled, arthritic hand toward me, a bright smile revealing jagged, tobacco stained teeth peeking out of his scraggly white beard. I shook my head and smiled politely, as did the woman next to me. Mister Miyagi then offered the folded crane to several other people sitting in the general vicinity, but was either ignored or politely refused. He came back around to me again, and in sympathy, I accepted the origami treasure.

Mister Miyagi was more than pleased. Smiling even wider than before, he began to alternately bow and mumble something about the crane symbolizing peace and would bring me good fortune. This was all intermixed with what I can only assume to be Japanese. I looked sideways at the other passengers and continued to smile politely. Taking my cue, a guy sitting near me decided that he too may in fact need some good luck, and accepted a crane as well. Mister Miyagi rewarded him with several more bows, and if you can believe it, an even wider smile.

His hands empty of origami cranes, I expected the little man to calm down a bit. But he must have sensed that his little creations were more popular than he expected, and reaching down, he pulled another out of his pocket. Pulling on the paper tail, the wings flapped and he giggled excitedly before handing it to the woman next to him with an elegant little bow. Looking around, another man held out his hand expectantly, and with a flourish, Mister Miyagi reached into his bag and presented another perfectly folded crane. By now the whole front end of the bus was grinning at one another.

Now for the grand finale. Apparently out of origami birds, Mister Miyagi rummaged around in his shopping bag for a moment and then turned to me with a grin. In his hand was the most giant yellow grapefruit I have ever seen in my life. The man in front of me actually laughed out loud. This was too much. With a huge smile I shook my head, and then watched as the grapefruit was offered to the rest of the bus. Wow. It had been the most strange 15 minute bus ride of my life.

Legend says that anyone who folds one thousand paper cranes will have their heart’s desire come true. Perhaps this strange little Japanese man has taken this idea to the next level. By giving away his paper cranes, he apparently hopes to bring peace and luck to the lives of others. It’s been a long time since I have seen a person get so much pleasure out of giving a handmade gift to a stranger. And I have to admit, it was amazing how such a little gesture from a small man was able to put smiles on the faces of otherwise grumpy people on their way to boring corporate jobs.

I’m going to keep the paper crane on my desk, and hopefully it will bring peace and good karma. Otherwise, I’m content to just remember my strange morning bus companion, and smile.