I met the most amazing man today. A man that touched my
heart the minute he spoke. He's about 24 years old and has the most beautiful,
warm smile. He doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, which was easily noticed
by the cuts and calluses covering his large hands. He had the prettiest bright
blue eyes that penetrated my usual brusque demeanor and made me want to just
talk forever.

I was sitting at the bus stop, reading The Chronicles of Narnia, when I saw him
out of the corner of my eye move next to me. I continued to read, doing my best
to appear as someone who does not like to be disturbed with small talk, but it
made no difference.

"I was cleaning the city."

Putting down my book, knowing that this guy wasn't going to just let me brush
him off or pretend I didn't hear him, I turned to him and said,
"What?"

"I was cleaning the city.” he repeated. When he talks, his mouth opens
very wide and his words come out very slowly.

"Yes, I saw," I replied, as I did indeed watch him bend over in his
motorized wheel chair picking up trash from the sidewalk driving it over to the
trash can. "You did a good job.” I said, feeling like an idiot for talking
to this man as if he was a child. I resigned myself not to allow it. Knowing
this man dealt with people treating him in such a manner all of everyday.

"My hands are dirty, now.", he said as he started picking at his
fingers as if they had something on them, clinging to his skin, when in reality
there was nothing there it was just a nervous gesture. "No girl is going
to want to hold my hand, now."

"Well, maybe after you wash your hands," I tried, knowing this was a
terrible, shallow response.

"Even if my hands were clean, no girl ever wants to hold my hand.” he said
it so sadly, so easily and with such loneliness that I almost carried on the
foolish child talk to try and sooth his sadness. He got a little teary eyed and
turned his head so I wouldn't see him wipe away the tears.

Instead, "Life sucks."

"Life sucks," he repeated and he looked at me as if I was the first
person to ever be honest with him.

"It's okay, though, because someday, somewhere things will be better and
if you think about that time and place it will make these days easier to
bear," I went on. "At least, that is what I try to tell myself."

We talked for the 15 minutes before the bus came, talking about how long my
husband and I have been together and about the accident that took his life away
from him.

It was five days before he was to graduate high school, when someone ran a red
light and rammed into his car. "Nothing is the same. I'm not the same
person that I was." After the accident, he was in a coma for two
months. Then, the bus came and when I got on, I planted myself in the
seat next to the handicap area at the front. He got on, turning his chair as
best he could in such a small space and buckled himself in. We chatted more as
we left downtown and he explained about his job as a janitor, unable to work to
much, as he would lose his disability, but he needs the money as - like the
rest of us - he has rent and bills to pay. He's quite proud of his hard work,
stating that it keeps him busy and he doesn't mind cleaning up after people,
even though it was not his life goal.

I watched him reach for the "Stop Requested" button, and felt so sad
that he was about to leave.

"What's your name?” I asked.

"Michael."

"Michael, I'm Krishna.", and I reached over to shake his hand.
"I have really enjoyed talking to you and I do hope that we will run into
each other again, someday."

"Me, too.” he said, giving the biggest, heart warm smile.

"You have the best night that you can, Michael."

"You have the best night that you can, Krishna."

"I will now that I have met you.” I said. It was the truth. Michael made
my day just a little brighter than before we'd met. I do so hope that we'll meet
again.