The man on the sidewalk

It was close to 10pm; it was dark and damp. We had just finished our dinner and had stopped earlier at a bakery for some bread and egg tarts. It was a blissful night.

Then we stumbled upon the man. A pile of clothes lying on the sidewalk. A sleeping old man. My first instinct was to walk the other way, to ignore him. To avoid him. To be safe.

But my partner beside me started shuffling through our plastic bags. He took out an egg tart and walked quietly to the sleeping man, and gingerly placed the tart next to the crook of his thin arm.

Then we silently walked away.

We went back to our car and I bit my lip, remembering how I had wanted to walk the other way, pretending I have not noticed him. Not caring. I felt quite ashamed of myself. And in awe at the compassion and kindness my friend had shown to a stranger.

As we drove past the homeless man, we saw that he had awoken and was devouring the egg tart, wiping the crumbs from his wrinkled lips.

I looked at the remainder of my bread and tarts. They were to be my breakfast tomorrow. What would he have for breakfast? I wished I had given the homeless man more when I had the chance.

Alas, there was only so much we could do... wasn't there?

Birds of a Feather

Chickity China the Chinese chicken...

Aren't they adorable?

Pop quiz: Why do flamingos stand on one leg?

Polly wants a cracker!