on chance encounters

Come what may, I won't fade away, but I know I might change.- Kate Havnevik (Grace)
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What's your tattoo mean?

I notice his eyes first, a brilliant blue, hiding under the brim of a hat. I notice his wrist second- a tattoo- right where I have one.

He smiles,

It means God's Gift,

-a pause-

in Hebrew.

The words are almost too ironic for me, as my mind immediately flashes back to sitting in the lobby of a hotel in Dallas, and Roy telling me that my name meant "God's Gift" in Hebrew.

It turns out Roy said a lot of things that weren't true.

It's my name,

the boy in front of me explains,

I'm Jonathon.

I nod and force a smile, raising my own wrist to show the reason for the question.

What's it mean?

He asks, leaning towards me for a better look.

Patience,

I say,

and Tolerance.

I hadn't meant to go where I did, but as I engage in a conversation with Jonathon about tattoos, religion, Ireland, and life, I decide that maybe -just maybe- there are good people out there worth encountering after all.