How Lucky Can You Get?

Many mature adults who walk slowly, possibly with the aid of a cane, must wonder how others see them.  Not me!  I know!

This weekend as I was hobbling across Court Street on my way to the “cool” Casa Nueva bar, a little girl about eight stopped me and proffered a quarter in her hand. She asked if I wanted it. I asked if she’d found it and she said no. I asked if it was hers and she said yes, and I thanked her profusely for the offer but suggested she keep it.  Did I do right?  Isn’t it grand that I don’t have to wonder any more how I’m perceived?  Even my best friends won’t tell me…












About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 83 now.
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2 Responses to How Lucky Can You Get?

  1. Sallie Carpentier says:

    You neglected to mention that you had been moving furniture all day, and hadn’t combed your hair, and we both pretty much looked like a homeless person!


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