And Old Man Sitting on a Bench

While my brother and I were having a walk through a garden in El Jadida today, we spotted an old man sitting on a bench alone. He seemed to indulge in deep meditation. He bowed his head wearily. And he was holding a crutch. As we approached him, my brother told me that he was one of our distant relatives whose wife had recently died. Instantly, I remembered him and talked to him. I reminded him of myself. What took me aback was his dejected face. His face expressed the right sense of bereavement. I could not help gazing at his red nose for so long, for in the latter I was able to feel how devout he had been to his late wife. His difficulty in uttering words clearly is living proof that he had done the best for his wife in her lifetime, that he had offered her all she had needed, and that he had loved her as she had been. The real problem that we face today is that this man's likes are few and far between.