I
stood by the counter at work bagging apples. I turned when I heard footsteps
enter the store and smiled at a middle aged woman who entered. āHello, how are
you doing today?ā I asked in a cheerful voice.
āGood,ā
she answered. āDo you have a washroom?ā
I
said yes and proceeded to direct her when she said, āMy son is coming in on
crutches.ā From the corner of my eye I saw a young man in his early twenties
hobbling towards me. I mentally took a deep breath because Iām not fond of
helping young men.
He
came closer and I looked him squarely in the eye and said, āright down this
hallway, itās the last door on the right.ā
His
eyes met mine and he responded with a gentle āthank you.ā
I
turned on my heel and finished preparing the apples. The young man came back
and helped his mother collect what they needed. When he was looking at the
tomatoes I saw the reason for his crutches. The left leg of his track pants was
rolled up just below where his knee should have been to reveal nothing but air.
After helping them at the front counter and teasing them about bring me back
some apple pie he drove away in his red truck with his mother on the passenger
side.
I wondered how he had lost his leg.
Then I thought about how most people saw him as half a person. I hope he knew I
saw him as whole.
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