It was lunchtime in the middle of summer. I watched her walk up the steps and enter the 

Golden Temple restaurant. She came out carrying a small paper bag and stopped, looking 

down the block on Charles Street. In front of the Quickee Offset building a man was 

occasionally being given money by passers-by. He was a pathetic sight. He seemed to be 

constantly in motion. His body tugged and jerked by nerve impulses gone awry.

She appeared hesitant and thoughtful as she stood there watching him. I had noticed her 

before this day. She had a deliberate, purposeful way about her, her chin held high. Her 

medium brown hair seemed to undulate with light. She was, without any contrivance, 

beautiful. And yet, on some occasions when I had seen her without her sunglasses, her eyes 

looked hurt, or haunted.

I was watching her now as she made her decision, turned and entered Rita's Restaurant, from 

which she emerged a few minutes later carrying another small paper bag. This she handed to 

the fellow she had been watching. Although she was around the corner in seconds, his delight 

and effusive thanks went on for several minutes.

I was deeply impressed by this woman's behavior; perhaps for reasons more subtle than the 

simple kindness of her actions. I felt privileged in a way- it seemed to me that there was an 

abiding goodness at work in this woman, and the perception of it was a benediction.