She couldn’t open the box,
sitting on the pavement
struggling with her hands
which looked more like the end of a branch
when all its leaves have been burnt or thrown away.
She sat there and struggled.
She was not looking at anyone, she wasn’t asking for her help.
She knew in this world you get help but not always,
and the things that mean the most to you
you have to do them yourself.
It was noon, she was hungry.
But even when she tried to use her mouth to open the knots,
the box containing the food won’t open.
I looked at her, there was pity but also hesitancy.
I wanted to help, but I also felt a little awkward.
Thankfully, I listened to the small voice,
I made my way back and before taking the box from her
I handed her a few bills and “Hallelujah” she cried.
I tried not to look at her or else I would have started crying,
I opened her box with the food intact,
looked at her and smiled.