The young man in the torn shoes and army fatigues helps my son up from a fall. The stranger keeps walking as the young boy gazes after him, quietly asking, "Who was that mom?"
I think to myself that many would answer that he is a homeless person. For us that day, he was a person, a friend. Is it because he kept walking that I think it might be so? Certainly more friend-like than some who claim the term. Unconditional friendship given. Nothing asked or needed in return. Who was that masked man?
It's years later, and I still think of this event. The good feelings are written on my soul. It's heartwarming to think that there are people out there who might also be looking out for my son. I was changed by a glimmer of friendship.
Five minutes before, he might have been invisible to me.
—me strauss Letting me be
4 comments:
I call these "vignettes", little dramas, moments of anonymous kindness or communication, complete in themselves, yet molecules for our lives.
You are an insightful and special human being, friend.
My words are nourished and cherished here, so they can grow, unfettered.
Yes they are cherished here and kept warm and undercover.
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