I was out on one of my power chair excursions today and had an interesting conversation with a cheery young man in a wheelchair. He looked about 22 and approached me in Chapters Book Store. I wasn't really wanting to engage in a conversation--too absorbed in all the new novels and gifts--but there was no escaping this fellow. He was fascinated with my Jazzy power chair. He asked me how comfortable it was, how fast it went, etc. It didn't take me long to realize he was a street person living in a shelter on the down town east side(drug addict part of town). His wheel chair was manual and looked to be a freebie of 1990 vintage. He expressed with great pride how comfortable his memory foam cushion was. This was a new and welcome addition for him. As he chatted I scanned his clothes, hair and glasses. The big plastic frames must have come out of a church donation box, his clothes although clean, didn't fit properly and his long hair was probably not trimmed for some years. He asked me what happened to me. I said, "ALS disease." He replied, "Oh no!" I returned the question and he explained how he'd fallen out of a second floor window and due to a spinal injury, couldn't walk. He wanted to chat all day but I explained how I must get going since I wanted to take some photos before the clouds moved in. As I left, he shouted, "What are you going to do with that chair when you get a new one?" I wanted to say, "Give it to you my buddy." But I said I would give it to a needy person at the ALS Clinic. He smiled and said, "Great. Just make sure they're not a druggy--they'll just turn around and sell it for drugs." I came home, set my expensive camera on the counter and reflected on how lucky I am and how much I have. The shelter will get a bigger donation this year.
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