I was sitting on the MUNI platform waiting for my train. I could hardly breath because there was so much liquid in my lungs. I’m embarrassed to say I had thrown up in a trash can a few minutes before you showed up because I was gagging from all the mucus. Gross, I know.
You took one look at me, walked over, and asked if I needed help getting home. I am not like Blanche DuBois, I have never depended on the kindness of strangers. I am afraid of strangers. This time I had no choice. I looked up and nodded yes.
You helped me get on the train. You didn’t even make me talk or ask me what was wrong. You just sat next to me. When it was time for me to get off the train, you held me up as I walked to my bus stop, you got on the bus with me, and you took me all the way home. Then you were gone. I have no idea if I even said thank you.
Many months later, maybe years (I can’t remember), I was standing on a corner and you drove by in a pick-up truck; we made eye contact; you waved; my face lit up and I waved back. I hope that you could tell from my face and my wave how immensely grateful I am for your act of kindness. You took care of me when I had no one else. I may not know your name, but I will never ever forget you, my Friend.
This post was inspired by Prompt #4 of this weeks Writer’s Workshop.
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