The Passerby

A year ago, during an evening walk, I met a man in the city — probably in his sixties.
He didn’t block my way, but his eyes held a quiet wish to speak.

I stopped, took out an earbud, and let him know I was ready to listen.

He said:

I never thought it would come to this.

Then added:

You’re not planning to drink, are you? (tomorrow, the day after — during the holidays)

I told him no.

He said:

Don’t be afraid. You hear me? Don’t be afraid of anything.

I replied:

Thank you. All the best to you!

He answered:

No — all the best to you.

An ordinary evening. An ordinary passerby. But there was something in him — something real, calm, and wise.
He didn’t impose, didn’t ask for anything, but it felt like he wanted to say something important.

Unfortunately, in the flow of life, we often fail to notice His presence — in passing strangers, in other people.