There is this woman who collects scraps and empty bottles. I see her sitting on the street everyday I go to campus. No matter the day, no matter how windy or rainy it is. She sits on the sidewalk, and collect bottles people throw away on the street. Instead of the huge trash bin right next to her.
Instead of the trash bin she sits right next to.
Sometimes they give them to her with their hand. Sometimes she… receives them when people throw it right next to her.
She doesn’t want money however. Nor does she seem homeless.
I’ve seen a few people people offer her lunches, dinners. I’ve seen a few people stayed with her for conversations. I myself give her a few bottles sometimes, as many as I could carry anyway.
But never seen someone offer her money.
Not because they don’t want to, not because I couldn’t.
Just that she didn’t… she won’t receive money. She has never put out a hat or a bottle or anything for anyone to give her a few changes. She has never done that.
…
For such a city like the one I’m currently in, she’s like a constant in the middle of everything that screams.
Screaming what, I don’t exactly know. “Changes”? “Business”? or maybe, “Busyness”? It’s just that everything is so… fast, so quick.
People ride vehicle, motorcycle WHILE texting WHILE making phone call with wireless earbuds.
People honk madly like morning rooster when the green light is just 10 seconds away.
People walk with their head on their phones. People waits for bus with their heads on their phones. People hang out with each other with their heads on their phones. People go to school, sit in class with their heads on their phones. People crossing the road with theirs heads on their phones, try to avoid vehicles drive by people who also have their heads on their phones.
It’s madness.
I’m not going to be one of those people who tries to claim moral high ground over this. I have a phone, too. I counted my screen time. Average 2 hours per day. I wasted time too.
But… my goodness.
My goodness…
…
I don’t know what this is really about…
It’s just that.
That old lady, she is like a wild flower blooms between the cracks of the concrete sidewalks.
She’s just there.
Existing.
Unbothered by the constant shift of hastiness around.
In a city where everything can’t stop looking forward to the next minute, to be… somewhere else. It’s nice to see someone just… be.
Right there.