Standing on the corner of Lawrence and Damen, in Chicago, waiting for the light, I see a couple of older folks crossing the street toward me on my left. The fellow is smiling at me, looking right at me, and I sense he's going to say something so I smile back. As he gets close, he says something that I don't understand, gesturing rapidly with his hands, and I realize by the sound of his voice that he's deaf. I say, "I'm sorry?" Slowly and with great enunciation he repeats, "Boy or girl?" "A little boy," I reply. He clasps and shakes his hands in front of his heart and beams. I nod and thank him. As he leaves me, he takes careful measures to tell me, "Best wishes to you and your baby." I stand there, smiling after him, on the verge of tears. Happy. Lucky. Proud.
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