Read the metro story
I held her hand, and we got on the metro together. We talked for four or five minutes. When we reached her stop, I held her hand again and helped her out of the station.
I wanted to make sure she got into an auto before I went home. But she said, “Just walk me up the stairs, and I’ll go on my own.”
I was a little unsure, but we went up. I said goodbye and told her to take care. She was walking slowly, with a stick.
Four or five seconds later, I looked back. I couldn’t see her anywhere. The road looked empty.
My mother used to say that God could appear in front of us in any form. I wondered if that was what had happened—if I had been given a chance to help.
I don’t know. But I still carry that moment with me.