A true story

At 5:01 this morning the snow was starting to softly cover the grassy surfaces. I was wishing that Abby would stay in bed longer however that hasn’t happened since the day we greeted her into our home. Half asleep, I negotiated the broken sidewalks, garbage, and recycling containers that lined the streets around our neighborhood. I picked up Nancy’s snow-covered newspaper and tossed it onto her porch. I’m not sure when I started doing this, however it’s been long enough that Abby knows that she has to sit while I dig for it in the bushes. The quiet was broken by the sound of a grocery cart with wobbly wheels heading up the street in our direction. My first thought was great I’m crossing the street, so I don’t have to deal with this unknown person who was peering into the recycling bins for recyclable bottles and cans. As the person came closer, I was amazed at his overflowing cart that was stacked high with garbage bags filled to overfilling with bottles and cans. When we were within 20 feet he stopped and yelled; hey mister! Is that a Golden Retriever? Is your dog friendly? I’d love to pet your dog if it’s okay…. I watched this man with ragged clothes drop to his knees and embrace Abby. Maybe it was the low light, but somehow, they became one… like they melted into each other. He shared with me stories of Rusty, his Golden from childhood. He lost Rusty to cancer. And then his father passed away, and then he lost his home. I reached deep in my pockets and could find only a wrinkle ten-dollar bill. I wish it had been more. I handed him the money. His outstretched hand was partially covered with a glove that was so worn I could feel his rough, callused skin touch mine. For a thin, broken down man he was strong. When he shook my hand, he grabbed my wrist with his other hand and there we stood. Locked in this embrace. I could feel his energy coursing through my body. I felt joy! Like the joy of a young child on Christmas morning opening unknown treasures. I looked into his eyes and I could see myself… our embrace ended, and I thanked him for the visit, and for sharing his story with me. As his cart navigated the broken pavement, I could hear a loud grateful voice yell “Merry Christmas” and I echoed his message. I turned the corner towards home. The snow now blanketed the sidewalks and streets. I thought “how beautiful” this walk has been.