Yet Something Beautiful

I was in the coffee shop above my studio, about to sit to lunch, when I noticed a woman pushing a man in a wheelchair. They entered the small bistro and took a space close to me. It might have been a stroke or some debilitating disease that left the middle-aged man mostly paralyzed and unable to speak coherently. At times he shook violently before trying to get a word out. Other than a sense of sorrow, what struck me deeply about the situation, was the woman’s calmness and sincerity when addressing what seemed to be her long-time spouse; as if, in her eyes, he was exactly the man he most probably used to be. I sat and marveled at her kindness and grace. To my mind there went a real-life unsung hero. I wrote ‘Yet Something Beautiful’ almost immediately after.