A short story. My day was just made. A brightly lit Jamaican american man was digging through the trash cans behind our house in the alley. I only knew this because of two reasons: 1. the dogs were going nuts 2. I went out and spoke with him. (His accent was as marvelous as his gold rimmed tooth next to the spaces where he was missing a couple.) He was just digging around for any tossed treasures and bottles. Knowing I had bags of bottles I had been meaning to take back tot he store, I offered him a couple of bags along side of some conversation. His name is Clark, he and Waylon interacted - big toothless smiles on both of their behalves. We shared a short conversation, a name exchange, some light warmheartedness, and then were on our way. I told him hes welcome around our bins anytime and hoped he had a blessed day. He shared the sentiment and said he looks forward to seeing Waylon be able to walk around the block. After coming back inside the house and noticing him gently putting the lids back on numerous trash cans, and then walk peacefully away - I felt as if I could have given him so much more - but am grateful to have been able to meet his acquaintance, and his beautiful soul shining bright through his tattered clothes, and treasure digging hands.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 15:29:35 +0000