An Old Man, A Walker, and A Trash Can:

I almost stopped to help the gentleman, but having dealt with temporary limited-mobility myself, I figured he would have thanked me, but likely wouldn't really have been thankful for my assistance.  The fact is, he didn't need my help, he would have thought, maybe said, "I can do this," and I'm quite sure that is important to him.  

I saw him when I was driving down a street in a nearby neighborhood, a seasoned citizen doing a simple task that most of us take for granted--bringing the empty trash can back to its place after the garbage-truck made its rounds.  In order to take a step the old gent had to square up in his walker and use both hands to support himself.  Each step allowed him to advance maybe one foot.  After each step he would reach around behind himself and drag his trash can the same distance.  How many times did this procedure have to be repeated before the refuse container was back in its appointed place?  I don't know, but judging from the two or three steps I watched him take, it took a while. 

After suppressing the desire to stop and "help" the man, I noticed a number of homes--likely houses populated by healthy folk, where trash cans still lined the street.  (The fact is, while I write this mine are still out front.  I'll get them as soon as I finish.  I promise.)  Some of these people were busy, or not home.  I wondered if some lacked the virtue that compelled this old man to go out and one more time do a task he had done for maybe seventy years even though declining health made the task incredibly difficult.  

I watched my neighbor for a less than a minute--

move the walker, 

step, 

turn, 

drag the can, 

turn back, 

grab the walker, 

move the walker, 

repeat, 

repeat, 

repeat, 

repeat!  

Lord, help me to do what I can do and should do.  Amen.

It's STTA