There used to be this elderly woman in my neighborhood—frail, hunched, wrapped in the same old shawl no matter how hot or cold it was. She was always coughing, moving slowly, asking in a shaky voice, “Do you have a little food? Maybe some change for my medicine?”
People avoided her like she carried some kind of curse.
I never liked that. Maybe it was the way she thanked me every time I handed her a sandwich or slipped her a few dollars—like I’d just restored a bit of her dignity. Maybe it was simply because no one else bothered.
Then one morning, I heard she’d passed away. No family around her. No one to hold her hand in those last moments.
That news hit me harder than I expected. I couldn’t explain why—just this strange feeling that the world had lost something it didn’t even realize it had. A few days later, I got a call from someone claiming to be her distant relative.Continue reading…
