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I hate the laundromat. A couple times a month I race through the chore with an intense, “don’t talk to me, I’m busy” concentration. Today was no different.

To avoid getting in the way of the guy hogging five driers or inadvertently knocking into the gaggle of toddlers stumbling around the ‘mat, I pushed my laundry cart into a small hallway that leads to the bathroom. As I did, I looked up and noticed that I had rolled my cart into the shins of a woman dressed in a shuttlecock burqa. Her robes covered her head-to-toe except for a small opening for her eyes that must have limited her vision to only one step ahead of her.

She was totally invisible.

It saddened me that I was completely oblivious to the presence of another human being standing close enough for me to put my arms around her. I see Muslim women frequently in my neighborhood, but their hijab seems as much of a fashion accessory as a religious statement. Certainly full veils are not the ordinary. I had actually googled burqas earlier this week when I saw a baby girl on the subway dressed in a head scarf. Frankly, my quick Internet research was so muddled with pro-Burqa propaganda and some weird sexual fetish movement, that I didn’t learn much.

I don’t want to question a person’s religious choices. Some groups of conservative Christians and even traditional nuns wear clothing that is arguably similar. But, this woman really moved me today. I know nothing about her except for the black and brown tent that covered her entire being with exception of her red and white Snoopy socks. Given that this encounter happened in a laundromat, I’m going to assume that those were her only clean pair left.