I rode the bus home from Barnes and Noble yesterday. The man sitting across from me looked really sad.His uncombed hair probably hadn’t seen a bottle of shampoo in several weeks, and his clothes were badly stained. He looked between 75 and 80 years old. I had never seen him before; I had no idea as to what his circumstances were.
Even though he was a stranger, I felt bad thinking that perhaps he had no one who cared about him or who checked to see if he was okay.
Everyone (well, maybe except for someone who’s really, really evil) should have someone who cares about him or her, especially at this time of year.
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