Every day on the way to work, I drive past a home for the elderly. Often, there are women strolling up the sidewalk behind their walkers. Sometimes, they're sitting under a tree, chatting and giggling in a circle like a group of teenage girls.
There's also a man who walks to the end of the block and stands on the corner to watch the traffic. He wears the same hat every day—a tweed-looking flat cap. And he always has his hands clasped behind his back. I'm fascinated by him. I am sure he's full of stories, and there have been days where I almost roll down my window and shout, "Get in!" He's a complete stranger, but I feel a great affection towards him and get excited each day that I see him.
This morning my heart melted when I saw him on the corner. Instead of stoically standing alone, keeping watch over the morning commuters, he was smiling and talking with one of the walker women. Even after she passed him to make her way back to the elderly home, he continued to smile.
Now I want to invite him for a ride even more than before.