The old lady in  Dorset st

Dublin, Ireland.

It was a grey day, and I was walking along a dirty street battered by the restless grunt of the passing cars when I saw her. She was a lovely old lady with grey hair, creased face and numb legs.
“Sorry son, could you help me?”

She was sitting on a street bench the with a zimmer frame in front.
“I’m old and I can barely walk”

I got closer ready to grab her by the arm and help her get to wherever, as any good citizen would do.
“Do you see that corner over there?”

My compassion was opening like a perfumed spring rose, I was going to encompass urban kindness, to help an old lady to cross the street. I ticked a box in my mental catalogue of good urban deeds; all that was left was to meet a blind man in a public toilet and help to point him towards the urinal.
“Can you see the pub behind?”
“Yes, of course...”
“Could you go there and buy me some cans of Guinness?”

The old lady held out her trembling hand to me with some cash while she looked at me with beseeching eyes. Needless to say I went to the pub, I bought her four cans of beer, and I brought them to her with a smile on my face. Then she said
“God bless you son, God bless you”