A homeless person once helped me, in a major way.

I needed to talk to someone about what it was like to lose a pregnancy, and it seemed at that time in my life no one in the universe wanted to hear about it. Except him, and he gave me his time and listened to my story.

The next time I saw him, he was looking through garbage outside of a QFC store, a supermarket on Broadway in Seattle. I said hi, he recognized me, but only kind of, and we went inside the store. When I asked what I could get for him, he pointed at the avocados and I bought him four. I saw him again after that, same place, but he was being shoved into a police car. That was the last time I saw him. – Kismuth 

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