But I took that folded bill out of my pocket, and I crouched down, and I pressed it into his cold, shaking hand.
“Please,” I whispered. “Get something warm.”
He looked up at me.
And he really looked, the way almost nobody had looked at me in months, like I was a whole person and not a problem.
His eyes were wet, and not just from the rain.
For some reason I will never be able to explain, I asked him a question.
“What’s your name?”
There was a long pause.
His mouth worked, like the word was rusty from not being used.
Then, very quietly, he said, “Samuel.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Samuel,” I said. “I’m Elena.”
He stared at me like I had handed him something far larger than ten dollars.
I nodded at him, like any of it made sense, and then I stood up and walked three miles home in the rain, because I’d just given away my bus fare, holding my daughters tight under my coat so they would stay dry.
