This morning on the green line out to Longwood, I noticed this very kind man.
As people got on an off, he smiled, moved out of the way and was a generally nice human. And then I took a closer look. Thin hat in hand, no coat (20 degrees out), tools in his pockets, paint or plaster splattered on his work pants, tired kind eyes. It made me think about all the men and women outside working in this cold, working with their hands, working unnoticed.
I thought about my baby brother, the roofer. His hands so strong, his back so screwed up from a life of very, very hard work. When we were kids, my brother was a drummer. He used to write stories. With those beautiful hands.
I wonder what this man wanted to be when he was little. And I pray he's warm while he's working.
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