The Needy One

  She was there when I got to work that day, curled up in a back booth with a thin fuzzy blanket. Underneath the booth and surrounding her were bags and a backpack.

 “There’s a shopping cart out back with more blankets,” my coworker said.

  I wondered who she was and how she survived with a shopping cart in the cold autumn weather. She looked gaunt and haggard. Hopeless and lost. I went to her, not because I was a worker there or because I was a manager, but because I was a person and she needed help.

  “Is there anything I can help you with? Anything I can get for you?” I asked.

  At first she seemed confused by my question, but then she answered blankly, “No, I’m just waiting for my brother.”

  I wondered if it was true.

  As I turned away I saw the first small glimmer of life I had seen in her eyes. What was she thinking?

  But she couldn’t stay there indefinitely, so eventually the police came. And she was gone. But to where?