I had grabbed a cup of coffee from the coffee place on Main St, and was working back against the cold wind to my desk. Turning the corner where the old train station clock is displayed I found a mighty cloud of witnesses surrounding ...Who/What?

There were at least a hundred wings clapping at the brisk air surrounding a man in a wheel chair. Out in the cold wind both man and birds were engrossed in a ritual that I'm sure had happened daily for more than a few months. He was casting out bread crumbs to the adoring crowd. And the crowd was eating it up, quite literally!

He was the master of ceremonies at a feast of grace where no one was wondering why they were there, neither they nor him. Though his head was bent down as he cast out the fare I could see the most blessed smile on his face. The birds were furiously fluttering with happiness and desire as he was intently lading out the stuff of his patronage.

It could very well have been the pinnacle of each of his days. I do not know, but it looked so. His admirers were equally as inspired that he, again, returned to give them goodness. As I walked past him it occurred to me: One giving freely day after day, with Joy, to those who could not pay Him back. I thought about that for a while afterward and the next day.