I was on the bus to work yesterday. I don't normally work on Thursdays but I was asked to come in that day to cover the normal Thursday person. And the bus was on the last leg of its route, driving by Prospect Park. About two or three stops from the end, I watch two women get on. I'd noticed the one woman first because she was wearing one of the more attractive versions of a skort that I've seen - instead of just an extra panel of cloth in front so it looks like a skirt, it had a whole extra layer wrapped nearly around it, with just enough of a parting on one side to show it was actually a pair of shorts. The wrapping was long enough that the legs of the shorts didn't peek out. It looked very comfortable and pretty. I was thinking it looked good on her and that it would be a very appropriate thing for a little girl. Anyway, she already had my attention.
Then I noticed she was taking in a wheeled walker and positioning it near one of the front benches, and then helping an elderly lady into the bus. My first thought was, "Wow, that's lovely of her." Then, common sense struck. The younger woman had to be a grandchild or a paid attendant. Except that instead of sitting next to the lady, where there was room, she chose to sit further away.
The bus came to the end of the line. We all left. New York City buses, especially newer ones like that one, are handicapped accessible. They can "kneel" to the point that it's almost even with some curbs, so the lady could get out by herself fairly easily. The young woman got out on her own and waited to cross a street to the next stop. But then she turned and went back for the older lady.
Normally, I then walk to work, but sometimes, if I'm very lucky, the 75 bus shows up. This bus will take me less than a block from the agency. If I'm slightly less lucky, the 69 bus shows up, and takes me one long block from my agency, which still saves time. Most of the time, neither are there and I walk. This time I was very lucky.
And that same young woman kept on helping the older woman - helped her across a street to the next bus stop, helped her and her walker onto the bus, and this time sat next to her and listened to her talk. I wanted to remember this.
The other thing is just -- I saw a father and his toddler at lunch. He was a big man, a young giant. She was a little bit of a thing, bright and curious and into everything. And there is something so sweet about a big man holding a very tiny child's hand. And knowing she has him completely in her thrall.