There is this aged man upstairs, who walks with a limp because
his foot was amputated. It did not stop him from going to work
everyday, for the New York Times, delivering and organizing papers
in Jersey City, driving there every nite, returning each a.m.
to his apt where he lives alone. He told me how he got rehabilitated
at Burke Hospital, and has since then gone back to talk to the
people there about his experience, recovering from his injury.
It made him feel good to know he could help other people with
their problems, while talking about his own. He now drops off
the paper every week to my house at my front door, never asking
for anything in return.
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