Ruth
was in a Jiffy store this morning and overheard an old man, loud with
frustration, ask the clerk about the bus line that he had just gotten
off in front of the building. Apparently the old guy had fallen
asleep and missed his stop. He was lost and confused and the clerk
was unable to help. The old man stumbled back outside and when Ruth
left too, she saw him asking for bus directions from a group of
Hispanic men who obviously didn't speak English. The old man walked
away, defeated, scared, clueless as to what he should do. Ruth got
into her car and pulled up next to him. “Excuse me sir, but I
overheard you in the Jiffy store. Where do you live, where do you
need to go?' She asked. He told her the street name and she replied:
“I know where that is, get in, I'll give you a ride...it's right on
my way!” she lied. The old man was stunned.
It must be hard for an old person with little money to live independently in a tough place like LA. Ruth had to tell him twice. “Get in!”
For the entire ride he praised Ruth for her generosity “Good things are going to happen to you, young lady!” he told her. Still incredulous, he asked: “You're not scared?” Ruth told him no, she wasn't scared and didn't bother to rub in the fact that he was a broken down old man of 80 plus years whom she could tie up into a knot in a heartbeat if it became necessary. But she knew it wouldn't be necessary. Arriving at the old man's apartment, he got out of her car, still amazed that someone, anyone, would reach out to a stranger like that. Grateful, and perhaps just a little lighter in his step, he disappeared into the complex where he lived. Ruth headed back to where she needed to go. She felt a bit lighter too, for having spent a brief time with Harold. His name was Harold.
It must be hard for an old person with little money to live independently in a tough place like LA. Ruth had to tell him twice. “Get in!”
For the entire ride he praised Ruth for her generosity “Good things are going to happen to you, young lady!” he told her. Still incredulous, he asked: “You're not scared?” Ruth told him no, she wasn't scared and didn't bother to rub in the fact that he was a broken down old man of 80 plus years whom she could tie up into a knot in a heartbeat if it became necessary. But she knew it wouldn't be necessary. Arriving at the old man's apartment, he got out of her car, still amazed that someone, anyone, would reach out to a stranger like that. Grateful, and perhaps just a little lighter in his step, he disappeared into the complex where he lived. Ruth headed back to where she needed to go. She felt a bit lighter too, for having spent a brief time with Harold. His name was Harold.
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