It wasn’t the easiest of roads to cross at the best of times.
The elderly man with the walker-frame managed to cross the road, but was having trouble mounting a steep kerb on the other side.
The younger man seeing that he was having trouble, approached saying, “Do you need any help there?”
He received a bitter look from the old man, who snarled, “Try minding your own business, why don’t you?”
“OK. I thought…”
“That’s the trouble with people like you. You don’t think. You have no idea what it’s like to be disabled like this!”
The other stepped back, looking a little dizzy for a moment. He shook his head. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
The old man eyed him suspiciously. “Oh! Yes?”
The young man tried to smile. “I have a brain disorder, it’s called Creutzfeldt – Jakob disease. I’m told I have a month at the most.”
The other frowned. “I’m sorry, mate. How was I to know?” He looked down at the kerb. “I’d appreciate it if you could hold onto my arm while I lift the walker.”
“Of course.”
The disabled man made it up onto the footpath. “Thank you very much,” he said.
“Will you be all right now?”
“Yes. Thanks again.”
They both made their way along the footpath towards the main entrance to the shopping centre.
Naturally, the young man got there first. He turned and gave a small wave and a smile as he went in.
The old man paused, squinting. Was it a smile or a grin?