She reminds me of my own grandmother. And of these tulips.
Three bags. A purse. A cane. An unsteady pace over ragged terrain.
I almost left her to her own devices, but as I saw her looking, pleading without words, in my rear view mirror, I heard my own grandmother.
You'll be a toddling old man yourself sooner than you think, and at you're rate, you'll also live alone, wishing some angel would stop to give you a hand.
Epiphanous moments are not always pleasant.
I stopped the car, leaving the doors open and the motor running. I walked slowly back to her.
My fear was that she would expect an assault from me.
She did not yell, but she did smile.
I asked her if I could give her a ride up the hill. She recognized me from the elevator, and then called me one of God's angels.
I do not recall the last time someone spoke of me like that.
She then said that God would bless me. She did not say it ad "may God bless." Her's was the tone of simple, not to be denied by a meer deity, expectation.
Maybe I should go buy that lottery ticket now.
I took her Kmart bags, but not her purse, telling her that I was just a neighbor her to help her on a hot day.
We drove up the hill and parked by the door. Illegally.
She worried aloud that I would be in trouble for parking here. I told her it would be OK, and we walked into the building, where I pressed the elevator button.
I loaded her bags on the elevator, asking her if she thought she could pick up the bags when she reached her floor.
She said yes, thanking me again as the doors closed.
I returned to my car, not in trouble with the policed as far ad I know, and drove to my usual spot to park and bring up my own stuff.
Location:Westgrove St,Raleigh,United States