You Are Me And I Am You
I got so sad on a walk earlier.
I ambled through an upscale neighborhood and I saw a Haitian gardener in his late 50’s walking back to his truck.
I said hi and waved because that’s what I do when I see anyone. Always.
He looked at me, wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt and said, “Hello sir.”
An automatic response. A reflex.
And it broke my heart.
I wanted, so badly, to ask him to take off his boot, remove his sweaty sock, and allow me to kiss his foot.
To make sure he knew we are equal. And how much I appreciate his kindness. And how much I appreciate his existence.
But all I could do is smile and say, “Have a good day.”
And he smiled back.