Kind Stranger

I don't know why but I just got the urge to post this. So I am.

Earlier this year, my mom, sister and I saw Wicked [sooooo overrated, I think] at the Aronoff. As we sat there anxiously awaiting the famous opening notes of the show to sound from the orchestra pit below, my sister in the middle, I set my purse on the empty seat to my right.
A few minutes later I got extremely annoyed [sometimes I get really annoyed at really small stuff] when a rather large lady wearing an...interesting...black-and-white patterned shirt sat down in the once empty seat to my right.

We continued sitting there, me wallowing in my annoyance that my mother added to by continually bragging about how my sister "hung out with Mr. Kunzel."
"How many eleven year olds have hung out with Mr. Kunzel?" gee, I dunno.... the entire SCPA chidren's choir... ?
"Next year when you see Mr. Kunzel..." If you don't shut up there won't be a next year.
"Your buddy Mr. Kunzel..." I'm 150% sure he has no frickin idea who the hell Camille is. Sorrrrrryyyy.
ANYWAY, she does that all the time and it's really annoying. And she kept saying how Camille would be on this stage someday, OH YEAH and "Remember when you were on this stage? And back in the green room? BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH" I'm sorry...did you forget that I WAS IN HERE'S LOVE TOO???? probably.

ANYWAY

I sat there with my anger growing with every show-off stage-mom comment she made. Just looking straight in front of me. Not speaking. And Camille was just taking it all in. But apparently I was doing a bad job of hiding my intense annoyance because the lady who started it all, the one who sat in the empty seat next to me that EXCUSE ME MY PURSE WAS SITTING IN, looked at me [I felt her gaze and rolled my eyes while turning my head toward her]. I could see the understanding in her friendly eyes, eyes that had no doubt seen many sad and happy stories throughout her 60ish years. She smiled softly and said:

"Someday you'll be great."

That was it. She fixed her gaze back on the still empty stage and I was beyond speechless. I tried to smile at her; it was a fake smile.

I wish to this day I could have forgotten my annoyance and other various problems I was experiencing for three seconds and given her a genuine smile.
But I didn't.

I thanked God [or whoever] when the house lights went down about three minutes later because then I could cry.

I cried for the kindness of this stranger that stole my purse's seat, I cried for being mad at my mother, I cried because she never has those kinds of compliments for me, and I cried because I'm not sure if that woman will be right.