Young Man, Old Man.

Last night we had several errands to run so we ate a quick bite at a deli/coffee shop.  As I sat eating my roast beef sandwich I found myself watching a young man hanging around the coffee bar/refill area.  He was tall, thin, bearded and dressed in a short black jacket and darker pants.  He also had two nap-sack style backpacks on his back, you know the type that just only have draw strings for your arms and closures.  I watched him take out a plastic grocery bag with a little bit of food in it.  He prepared the food and placed it into a microwave that was only large enough to fit a soup bowl.  While he waited for his food to cook I noticed that his black coat was torn from armpit to about his mid back.  From this tear I could see a pair of ragged but neatly folded pants, along with one or two shirts, were stashed between his back and the torn jacket.  After the food was done being heated, he took paper napkins and cleaned the entire microwave.  He then proceeded to take out his wallet and any change from his pockets.  He laid it all out in a neat row then stacked and counted it twice.  It could not have added up to any more that three or four bucks in total.  He then divided it into two piles, one went back into his wallet while the other went into his pants pocket.  Just as he was picking up his food another sight caught my eye.  A lady that had been sitting two tables from us stood up.  She was one of the largest ladies that I have ever seen.  Not fat large but a good 6'4" and 250-275 lbs and solid.  Dressed in neat black dress pants and a plain pull over shirt.  Her hair was longish and pulled back in a slick and sever half bun half pony tail.  She took two steps toward our table and I felt a wave of heat come over me.  Why was this woman walking toward me?  Crap, what had I done and what was she going to do to me?  She then knelt down next to an older man sitting near me.  The man was softly sobbing.  She placed one hand on his knee and with the other she stroked his head and hand.  She talked to him for some time and as she stood back up she caught my eyes and gave me a soft smile.  I hope that she was able to read the thank you my eyes were trying to send her.  The old man placed his hands over his eyes and continued sitting alone and the young guy at the coffee bar was now gone. 

As I left the shop I reminded myself that every person has a story.  Not everyday is a happy one and I will try to remember to smile toward a stranger, hold open a door or say a kind word.  For that one person my small kindness might be the only positive thing that happens their entire day.