After finishing seminary, I had an opportunity to hop a plane and then ride trains all around western Europe for six weeks. One morning near the end of my journey, I was wandering a busy street in the center of Oxford, England, when I witnessed one of the most amazing and beautiful performances of my life.

Across a filled lane at a pedestrian-packed intersection, I wandered upon a college-aged kid in a white button-down shirt, slacks, and a pair of Buddy Holly glasses who was darting around people in the square, sliding in behind unsuspecting walkers to either ape their gait or to mime an intense conversation with them (unbeknownst to them) or to pretend engage with them in some silly comical way, to the surprise of whoever watched him. Sometimes his target would turn and catch him mimicking or mocking him, and at that point, the kid would break into a smile and feign a hug, or merely nod at his victim, and then he was off again in another direction, wading in the crowd, finding another target. Naturally, among those seeing what he was doing, an audience emerged.

The most enjoyable moments in his performance came after he ran back to his temporary base, and from a paint bucket grabbed a red rose or two- and then he was office. With roses hidden behind his back, he would amble up next to some unsuspecting woman, and then fall on his knees in front of this startled stranger and, placing his hands over his heart and lowerng his head, he would then extend to her the roses in a passionate plea. Surprised, the woman would inevitably smile broadly and take the flowers blushing or giggling. A number of times, the woman was walking with a man who was either her beau or her spouse, and that didn’t phase our actor. This action he offered several times during the show, and it was beautiful to watch how these strangers would accept his attention, and his flowers.

A few times, he even mimed bumbling or rudely cutting off a fellow or two, just to get their ire, and then greet their agitation with a smile and a rose.

I must have watched this guy put on this show for 20 minutes, and it was mesmerizing.

Here were all of these people shuffling about on a busy morning to get to where they needed to go, and here he was- interacting with complete strangers, interrupting their routines, impacting their day.

What made the experience so amazing to me was the fact that this young man was doing what he was doing alone. Mimicking men and wooing women in thirty-second dramas that resolved as quickly as they began, he was spreading surprise and smiles across the intersection in a surreal display of courage and connection. Watching him, it was clear there were a number of moments that he risked being misinterpreted and consequently pushed or punched, but he never was.

I guess what I really love is that, through this exercise, the guy was totally selfless. He just forgot himself as he ran around and skipped and gestured and stumbled and proffered. And the people who experienced his antics and the audience watching his actions loved his playful freedom- and how it impacted others in the crowd.

There is a beauty that comes from being courageous. Courage impacts others when it challenges their set ways of living, and forces them, through experiences observed, to rethink what the meaningful things in life are.

In time, a light drizzle encouraged all the onlookers to move on and to find cover, and I joined them, moving on up the street, leaving that crazy-cool kid behind.

But I didn’t really leave him behind. Witnessing his performance left an indelible mark on my memory- and my recollections of him entertaining that day in Oxford is my favorite memory of the whole six-week trip.

There is a beauty in seeing courage in action.