He is standing on the street corner. Slight. Grey. Gentle.
Playing the recorder. His cap crumpled in front of him, quietly asking.
[and already, my heart fractures]
I am in my car, waiting for lights, watching Suit People walk past.
Busy. Important. Ignoring.
And then. Another gentle, wrinkled, patched.together.soul approaches, shuffling.
Picking precious coins from his own rough palm.
I am there, in my shiny car. Crumbling: aching tears.
Positive Psychology reminds us of what we all (surely?) know:
that altruism and compassion are critical: good for others but also good for self.
The lights change and I drive. Having done nothing.
[friends, please: look out for other gentle folk. Especially if they're slight and grey and softly playing the recorder].
