It wasn't the man sitting on the curb that prompted me to stop and offer a few crumpled bills. It wasn't the rain falling on his dirty coat. It wasn't the broken look in his eyes. It wasn't his sign, which simply read "Help". It wasn't the way his head hung toward his chest. It wasn't the air of hopelessness that surrounded him. It was his companion, sitting
quietly in his lap. It was the pink collar and leash. It was the cat.
2 comments:
I hear ya. Good going.
I saw that same guy! He was probably just wanting to buy some catsup to make his furry dinner a bit more tasty!
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