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Best Story Of The Week…November 3

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  Rush hour    8:30 a.m.

  I’m on the corner of 86th Street and Lex waiting for the light to change watching people rush towards the subway, oblivious to what I notice next;

 a young kid in his 20s with a German Shepherd doing what looks like a slow dance.

 He has a bag he’s trying to throw out, but as he nears the trashcan, backs away as if it’s giving off heat.

 The masses are walking around him in true New York ignorance, before it dawns on me, he’s blind.

  “Hey,” I said, once I crossed the street, “can I help you?”

  I’ve learned you need to ask after being slammed more than once for not minding my own business.

  “If it’s okay, I’ll nudge you over so you can throw that away. Alright?”

  “Yeah, great, he said,” as I gently put my hand on his forearm.

  “They keep moving these,” he said, dimples peeking above a noble chin, as he tossed the bag away.

  His dog, with a sign on his collar that said …

Please Don’t Pet Me, I’m Working, was as relaxed as he was.

  “I’m Susannah, I said.

  “My name’s Ben, he said cheerfully,”and this is Amos,” rubbing the dog’s snout like a good luck charm.

  “Thanks much for helping us.”

   I then watched this stoic kid and his best friend make their way as if life couldn’t have been better, humbly reminding me, how blessed I am, that I can see.     

 SB


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