There is a man next door that I’ve had sporadic interaction with since moving here in February. He’s tall, thin, and when my mom and I both stuck our hands out to say hello he wiped his off before he shook ours. His name is John. Today I shared some extra turnip roots and an onion with he and his sister, and she came over a bit later with a big sheet cake, and said he wanted to share some of his cake because it was his birthday. Then he came around the corner holding a notebook and smiled and nodded. When I took it back I knocked on the door and he answered; still holding the notebook, and I thanked him for sharing his cake and told him to have a great birthday. In that moment I had a memory of a man I met in Georgia who was homeless and stood in the cold talking to him after he said “you can talk to me you know” when I brought him some food in my pajamas after passing him on the side of the road. I don’t think John has had many people talk to him. The feel of this building is very different now. Partially because folks aren’t here anymore that were unsafe and inappropriate, but because I made peace with Ms. Betty and her brother. Perhaps she’s realized that I’m a nice person, but I don’t jeopardize my safety. Most importantly, she’s realized assumptions about a person aren’t always accurate. Maybe those extra turnip roots and onion will make his birthday dinner tastier. Hopefully. 🙂
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