Farewell Mr. Smith. You were a good man.

Mr. Smith goes slowly down the street.

He pushes his wheeled walker a few inches out in front of him and his shuffling feet slowly catch up. As I sit there watching he advances a foot or so further from his home. I wonder if he gets tired will he be able to shuffle back home? Would anybody come to his aid?

I think to go help him and then I remember I can hardly help myself. Perhaps if I were to try as hard as Mr. Smith is trying I could?

Mr. Smith is like the little choo choo train; "I think I can, I think I can."

Mr. Smith was a grade school teacher long ago. He was a gruff sort of man but kind and always willing to help his little charges. That was a good 63-64 years ago. I am seventy, soon seventy-one.

I bet Mr. Smith is ninety years old, maybe more.

That is what I was thinking last summer when I first spoke of Mr. Smith here in the lounge; never give up never give up he showed me.

Mr. Smith passed on yesterday. He was ninety-four years old.

You taught me many things Mr. Smith.

Smooth sailing and thanks.

180

May he rest in peace. May you forever hold these memories of a dear man close to your heart.

:hug:

aA

I wish him a happy journey