Friends and Strangers is a collection of essays Karen Mains wrote when she first began to recognize the divine interplay that often occurred when meeting strangers. Some of the chapter titles include “The Loneliest Man I Ever Met,” “Guess Who Came to St. Patrick’s Day Dinner?”, “Writer Without Words,” and “A Comfortably Rumpled Advocate.”
by Karen Mains
For my birthday last week, David and I used our Metro Regional Transportation Authority “Seniors Ride Free” passes to go into Chicago. Rumor has it that the state legislature is going to cancel this program since Illinois is facing one of the worst budget deficits among the 50 states so we are trying to employ these passes as much as possible before the hatchet falls.
Last spring, because of the fact that Riccardo Mutti was named the new artistic director of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, my husband purchased a series of tickets, which are serving as our anniversary, Christmas, birthday, and Valentine’s Day gifts. We arrived at Ogilvie Station on January 19, where a bitter biting wind forced us to catch a taxi. Consequently, we had an hour to spend in the Art Institute (where the Chagall stained-glass windows have been cleaned and reinstalled) before our dinner reservation. At 6 p.m. we hustled across Michigan Avenue to have dinner at the Russian Tea Time Restaurant.
How to choose from Ukrainian Borscht, Eggplant/Zucchini Duet, Lamb Samsa or Pumpkin Vareniky? David leaned over to the woman eating alone at the table beside ours and asked, “Do you have anything on the menu you especially enjoy?” That was the beginning of an enchanting table conversation with this woman who had grown up on the South Side of Chicago, spent her career teaching at South Shore High School, resides now in retirement at the family home in Saugatauk, Michigan, but makes regular trips back into the city where she keeps a condo in her old neighborhood. Read full article at Hungry Souls.
