"So I have been hanging out down by the train's depot. No, I don't ride. I just sit and watch the people there."

It has been a week of stories for me...a week of listening. I've always been good at telling stories (sometimes truthful...sometimes...um...elaborated?), but this week my job hasn't been to tell so much as it's been to listen...one of my favorite things. It is my firm belief that everyone has a story to tell, sometimes you just have to stop long enough to hear.

I have a friend who is in love. We went out to coffee Monday (isn't life is just better over coffee?) and sat there for hours talking about life and death and God and love. He also told me stories of how his dad survived through the hurricane and became a sort-of 'hero of the hour.' We must have sat at that coffee shop longer than anyone else in there...by the time we left, none of the customers were the same as when we came in...even the staff had changed over! But there was something beautiful about listening to my friends stories...and he thanked me.

Tuesday was more of the same...listening to others share their experience with the storm, after the storm, whatever may be coming next.

Then yesterday afternoon I was walking through the French Quarter/Marigny District and just had one encounter after the next with people I met along the way. Sid told me how she and her buddy had hopped freight trains to get down here and were on their way out. The man on Decatur told me (or really the air around him...I think he was talking to himself) about his day. Even the old guy sitting on the stoop and Kim at church had something to share.

I love listening to other peoples' stories...just like I love it when they listen to mine. And I think what I love most about it is the affirmation we get from it...yes, I'm alive...yes, I exist. The hurricane literally wiped out every public record that I exist. Birth certificate. Passport. School records. I disappeared. There were days in New York when I would slip through silently...I'd go whole days without speaking, being invisible. But through people who took the time to listen, I realized that I'm still here. And slowly, as I told my story, I came became less invisible...kind of like that scene in Back to the Future, you know? I reappeared and I grew stronger the more I told my story. Strong enough that now I can listen to others and help them get stronger. Strong enough to make a difference.

Everybody's got a story...listen close enough, and you just might change the world.