I met an old man today living at the gas station near work. He is living there because that happens to be where his van ran out of gas. Proud old man too, not used to or prepared for this kind of life. He tried to ask me for money, but couldn't get the words out. Pride held them in. It took me hearing what little of his story he could get out twice to figure out his circumstances and what he couldn't ask.
I didn't have much, but my seven dollars made his eyes swell and he couldn't get "thank you" out. The look on his face told me that, to him, "thank you" was just not enough. He hadn't eaten in two days and I was only the second person to actually listen to him or show him attention at all. It has depressed me for the remainder of my day that I could not do more.
If I got conned, so be it. I don't believe I was; nobody is that good of an actor. I didn't notice his van at the gas station when I drove home, so I must assume he got more help somewhere. Seven dollars doesn't buy much.
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