I was walking into the store a couple of days ago when I noticed a person sitting in a lawn chair.

I say a person because I am not sure if it was male or a female.

He or she was so badly burned and had so much flesh and hair literally cut away I couldn't tell. There is an air of frailty that comes when your body has been brutalized in some way--a kind of waifishness.

Clutched in this person's lap was a donations box. After taking these things in my eyes averted quickly--subconsciously-- much like when you wince after an unexpected cut.

I think what brought on the intensity of the wince was I was thinking as I walked towards the store entrance how fit I had been feeling lately.

I'm moving faster these days. I have more control over my body and what it does. There in the parking lot on my way in I had been making note of these things specifically when I came upon this person.

and I was ashamed of myself.

I went in with Jo and I did what little shopping I had to do and came out with this person still on my mind. I couldn't even look over when I left. I only had a jumbled impression of what this person had looked like when I first laid eyes, and I was pretty sure if I looked again the pieces would all fall together and burn in my mind leaving a scar there.

Something more to mourn.

When I got back in the car I pulled out to go home and found myself moving instead towards the store entrance. I didn't really think specifics, but I must have, right? because soon my car was in the emergency lane and I was getting out clutching a $5 bill. For some reason I was moved to acknowledge this person.

to look this person in the eye and say hello.
I wanted to because I didn't think I could.
and I was ashamed of trying to avoid the image of their suffering in my head.

So I walked up, put my bill in the donation box and did say hello. I stopped and asked how this person was doing, but no eyes looked up.

This person just mumbled thank you, said 'fine' to my inquiry and kept looking down.

It was hard for this person to look at me I suddenly realized.

It was probably harder.


I turned and walked back to the car.