The cry of the poor has always been loud, but she never actually noticed until now. The loss of a loved one—in her case her partner—has taken away a veil of comfort.
Sure, sadness and devastation take place in your body, mind, and whole being—she can definitely feel it in her bones right now, aches everywhere that linger on.
But by going through this season of pain, she seems more aware of the hardness of others too.
It would be unthinkable before to tear up watching a homeless person, sitting on the ground, a piece of cardboard with some scribbled-on words in front of him, looking at the people passing by.
None of them greet, give, or do something. Presumably, thinking he’s unworthy for a glance and doesn’t earn their respect.
A couple of weeks ago, she would be among those people, feeling no love and utter disgust for the man sitting there.
But not today.
Without further hesitation, she walks up to him, sits down, and opens her bag, ready to share a sandwich and a conversation.
*some of my newsletter readers have given me 3 words. With those 3 words, I create a short story. This little story is based on the 3 words in the title.