Hello. I've found a way into the blogspot again. I'm still at the border. Yesterday crossed to Stanstead. But it's a story of something that happened in Philadelphia that I want to tell. (I'll have lunch first.)

(It's well over a month later, now. Long lunch. Hope it was enough to eat. Hope it was more than $1.00 could buy.):


So here was that Philadelphia story: We were walking along, crossing a street, when a young man, African, I think, reached the corner having crossed the perpindicular at the same time as our group of four. He was on crutches and walked as though newly using them.

He asked for money for something to eat. I won't try to say exactly what he said, but it was a simple sentence. It did not quite sound like English, though. Maybe he said, "Something to eat."

This is not really a story. This is just telling how I stopped and searched for a dollar. The others went on ahead, quickly. One turned back to make some kind of face at me, something that might have meant, "Poor you. You're such an easy mark."

O.K., so I found a dollar. But in return for the dollar this young man on crutches, perhaps in pain, perhaps hungry, had to listen to me tell him, "This won't work. You need more help than this. You need help from social services...."

He just looked at me. I'm sure he didn't understand me. He tried to say "Thank you," and walked on, probably confused, probably in pain, certainly no closer to a meal with my $1.00 than he'd been before he asked.

I caught up with my party. The child among us said, "He didn't seem very grateful." I told her that wasn't what concerned me.

It's many months later, now, when I'm finally finishing this Philadelphia story. I've wondered often about this young man. How did he get hurt? Was he a newly arrived refugee? Was I right to think he was new to English? Was it really awful of me to fuss at him in exchange for the measly $1.00, talking to him like a child, saying he had to find a better way?

The others chided me. Then they let me pay for their various drinks and snacks. It came to nearly $30.00, though we barely had anything.

I hope he's all right. I always think of him with embarassment for myself, for those with me, and for a city where -- if it's the case -- a young man on crutches has to beg for something to eat.