Almost every day I passed her after work. Old lady. Lonely, in a wheelchair. The lines in her face told a thousand stories. Round cheeks. Maybe swollen from some kind of treatment or medication (it brought my mind back to when my mother ate cortisone whilst battling cancer). Tiny fragile crooked hands, fingers unable to move. A plastic bowl sat on her lap. Sometimes there was a little bit of money in it.
There was something very special about her. She was always smiling. There was still this extensive amount of glitter in her eyes despite her obvious struggles. She smiled in a childlike way, as if she was up to something exciting. Her eyes spoke to me in a profound way and even though I couldn't understand what she was saying I somehow felt a deep connection to her.
I took the same route back from work as often as I could and gave her some money, sat down for a second and listened to her. Who knows what she was telling me, I really wish I did - I'm sure it was lovely. We smiled and I left. As I continued walking my heart always broke and I cried all the way back to the hotel. Something in her woke up something in me that I hadn't felt for a long time.
Maybe she reminded me about how much I miss my mother. Maybe she reminded me about a lot of things. Maybe I had been in too much of a hurry to stop and see things around me. That ability is something I never want to loose. And I feel so much gratitude towards this little lady.
One day when I walked home from the office she was gone. The day after I didn't see her neither. But if I see her again I will stop. I'll smile. Listen to tales I can't comprehend and I will give her what I can to thank her for what I felt she gave me.
It takes so very little.
Let's see people. Let's please preserve the essence of being human.