When I left the house this morning, we were out of regular bread. (The Lolas always have their stash of Raisin Cinnamon Swirl, but Alan and I prefer to go with whole grain or potato bread..) On the way home, I was actually debating upon whether or not I would go local and hit the grocery on the way home, or go into the city and pick up the bread from the small grocery near Alan’s hotel and then go home via the Express bus. The deciding factor was whether or not I would see the N train heading towards Manhattan first, or the 7 Express train heading towards Queens. The N train came first.
Alan was still busy at work so even if I was in his area, he told me to go ahead and head for home. On my way into the grocery, I saw an elderly woman with her pushcart and empty paper cup in hand just outside the door. Even before I got my loaf of bread, I walked over to the sandwich corner and picked out something substantial, then I got two bananas, and a large bottle of water. Only then did I get my loaf of bread. I told the cashier I wanted them bagged separately.
On my way out, I handed the old woman my contribution to her dinner.. she said “Much appreciated..” and I walked away. She left her perch soon after. I was glad she did. I knew she had to find shelter from the cold, and tonight is not going to be an easy one. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder how they can survive in the open — in the morning, you will find the homeless inside cardboard box “cubicles” usually atop or near a heated building exhaust. Other times, they would be curled up in some closed doorway or steps.
I pray they keep warm tonight… somehow..