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The woman was the last of a small group to leave her table at the restaurant. I saw her glance in my direction several times, as though she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure. Then she walked over to the table where I had been writing at my MacBook.

“Excuse me,” she started, “but don’t you walk a dog that looks like a collie? Do you walk near Bryant Avenue a lot of times?”

I don’t think Lucy looks like a collie, but I can see how someone could see her that way from a distance. I told her that Lucy and I turn around at Bryant Avenue at the halfway point of our typical walk, so it probably was us she was thinking of. I showed her a photo of Lucy.

She smiled and seemed pleased that she had been right.

“I just want to tell you that you have a wonderful dog,” she said. “I’ve never seen a dog so well-behaved. I can’t believe how she does everything you tell her to do. It’s amazing.”

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I was just getting home Saturday night when the phone rang. I didn’t know the number, so I almost didn’t answer.

A woman identified herself, but the name meant nothing to me. She told me I might not remember her, but she said we used to talk at a restaurant where I used to go — a place that shut down last year. She was an employee there and she used to come sit and talk when things were slow.

After she reminded me, I did remember her, but I never would have recalled her name. I haven’t seen her for a couple of years and I doubt she’s crossed my mind since then. I was confused about why she was calling and how she even found me.

She explained that I had once given her my business card — which had my name and number — and she had somehow saved it. Then she sounded nervous, as though she wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“You saved my life,” she finally said. “I just wanted to thank you for that.”

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On the night I made the mistake, I had no idea I was doing anything wrong. I was clueless. Even arrogant. Within five or six years, though, I had grown enough — and learned enough about myself — that I had to apologize to someone for that night.

It was about 15 years ago. I was getting to know a woman who I’d recently met. We would go on to date seriously and almost marry. But on that night, we were still getting to know each other. She had graduated from college with an education degree and was about to start teaching. But I thought she was too smart and too capable for teaching school.

I don’t remember how I worded it, but I let her know that I thought she would be wasting herself if that’s what she did with her life. I let her know that she was capable of far more than that — and I subtly made it clear that I would prefer she did something more “impressive.”

I was more concerned that night with what I wanted her to be than with what she wanted. My mind was focused on how her choice would reflect on me. I was blind to my error at the time, but I’m ashamed of it now.

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