Yesterday as I sat at the coffee shop, I watched as a blind woman approached the door from outside, and a stranger sitting at the table beside the door got up. I was inside, they were outside, so I could not hear the conversation, but it was clear they were discussing something related to where the woman with the cane was going. The woman who helped her by opening the door appeared to be half of a middle-aged lesbian couple with a small dog (ubiquitous, I know). A short time later I saw the middle aged woman give her elbow to the blind woman as they set off across the street. I heard nothing but it seemed obvious she was walking the blind woman someplace in particular. Her partner and the dog sat at the table and waited.
In a forgotten garden, among the weeds and trash, it seems sometimes like the weeds have taken over. But if we look closer, there are always brave sentinels carrying on, the volunteer tomato, the tiny flowers, the chard that has reseeded itself.
As I watch events in Ukraine and almost anyplace else on the globe you want to mention, I despair. From a macro view, we are so messed up. But there is kindness afoot in the world as well. I would do well to remember that.
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