Last week he tells me from across the street that he'd like more anti-microbial wipes if I have any. I did because of you Dear Anonymous. He was using them on the bus even though the bus driver was also wiping surfaces down.
'I wipe down what I can before I sit down. I wipe down everywhere I touch before I leave... The bus driver thanked me.'
On another day at another time I would have hugged him, or maybe just put my hand on his arm to acknowledge that I heard that last part.
'The bus driver thanked me.'
That held such tenderness. I remember wilting.
Instead I left the wipes, and a coffee card and clean socks
( which he recycles where he shelters, so that they can be washed and used again ) on the granite step where he will walk and pick them up.
I will remain wondering if he knows how buoyed I was by his response.