Saturday, February 7, 2009


This required the large cart they keep in a room off the lobby. Large cart. Big load. I rarely clean out my room and after all the stuff I've had shipped to me -- months ago -- there was just a lot of cardboard.

I loaded up the cart and carted it out to the big recycling dumpster in the parking lot. When I came back in to return the cart some painters had set up their ladders in the doorway to the cart room so I had to go in another side door. As I was turning the cart around Angel, the guy who sweeps and vacuums our floors and generally cleans up after, appears from behind the corner. I had seen him mopping the front hall. He came over to help me.

I've been thinking about this since yesterday. Do you know anyone who is just really really sweet? I sometimes think I'm the sweetest person I know. But then there is my friend Sunny. She's very sweet. And then there is Angel.

Angel has a high-pitched voice that makes him sound like a child of 8 instead of somewhere in his 20's. One of his eyes doesn't open. I don't know what happened there. I always say hi and goodbye, pretty much one after the other because that is what he does. "Hi" -- walk by -- "Bye."

Angel took the cart and wheeled it into the room and parked it in the little nook. I followed him about, moved a little chair that wasn't really in the way. "Thank you," I said. "Your welcome," he said. "How are you?" I said. "Fine." He maybe doesn't speak much English. I did manage to find out he's from the Philippines and he goes there once a year.

Whatever background he has, how did he get so sweet? How come he's not hard with suffering? Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe he has religion. I know some people get very sweet with religion. It sure softened me up.

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