Like many people, my work days are hard sometimes. I get frustrated with petty problems, I fuss about how some people misuse sick time, I bitch that my supervisor doesn't really understand where I'm coming from. Fortunately, I feel good enough about my work and career choices overall to ride out the more painful waves in the hopes that the end result is worth the struggle.

Today was actually a pretty good day. I felt purposeful in my interactions with people. There were several positive changes to be noted. Certainly, there have many, many days when I have left the office with a crappier general mood.

As I walked to the subway station to head home, I debated whether or not I should head toward the prime shopping area to go in search of the perfect chocolate brown sleeveless top. (It would be the ideal complement to my camel skirt and knee high brown boots. ) Fiscal responsibility won out and I approached the subway entrance. Normally, as I make my way down the stairs, my eyes seek out the least resistant path to the turnstiles. Today, I spotted an elderly gentleman struggling to mount each stair as he relied on two crutches and carried no less than four plastic bags. I spotted many people scurrying by (as I often do) in order to catch the next train. Had I continued on my path and scooted past this man, nobody would have blinked an eye, but somehow I couldn't let myself do that today. I walked down the steps to where he had paused to catch his breath. "Can I help you?" I asked. He shifted his hunched over posture and looked at me. "Well, you could walk with me." I had no idea where he wanted me to walk with him. "Would you like me to carry something for you?" He handed over a lightweight plastic bag and continued up to the next step. I offered my arm but he pointed out the obvious: he needed to use both of his arms for his crutches. And so I walked up the stairs with my newfound acquaintaince, keeping a step or two ahead of him, serving (at best) to keep other stairway passengers out of his path so that he could take the time he needed to reach the upper platform.

I wasn't sure if he would ask me to continue walking with him. "Okay, I'm going to get on the bus heading toward W___". He looked me in the eyes and said "Bless you. Thank you for walking with me and thank you for carrying my bag." I told him that I was happy to do that and he told me again how much he appreciated my "help" (which, honestly, I did not think I had offered much of). After sorting out concerns about each of us getting home safely, my acquaintance extended his hand to me. I shook his softly wrinkled hand and told him to take care. As I walked back down the stairs in my usual hurried fashion, I felt a catch in my throat.