Left On The Pavement
A man’s grip slipped from under the older man’s legs, dropping him sideways onto the hard stone walkway.
The grey-haired man hit the ground with a dull thud beside the blue fabric of his wheelchair. His yellow shirt pulled tight across his ribs as he rolled onto his side, his hands curling toward his stomach.
The bearded man in the brown jacket took two steps back. He kicked the small front wheel of the empty wheelchair, throwing his head back and laughing toward the sky before striding up the concrete steps.
On the sidewalk below, the older man pressed his cheek against the grey paving stones. His mouth opened in short, ragged breaths while pedestrians continued walking past the archway behind him.
An Approaching Shadow
Heavy boots struck the stone path, slowing to a stop just inches from the fallen man’s shoulder.
A young soldier in a green camouflage uniform and tan beret dropped onto both knees. He placed an open palm across the man’s trembling shoulder and leaned close to his face.
The soldier rested his other hand on the man’s arm, listening to the strained gasps. He shifted his weight, sliding his hands under the man’s armpits to brace his back.
With a slow, controlled pull, the young man brought him up into a sitting position. The older man rubbed his palms across his knees, blinking through tears as he pointed toward the steep stairway leading up the hill.
Climbing The Steep Flight
The soldier slid his left arm beneath the older man’s thighs and hooked his right arm firmly behind his back. He drove his boots into the sidewalk and stood up straight in one fluid lift.
The older man wrapped his right arm around the soldier’s neck, resting his chin against the camouflage fabric. His knuckles stayed white against the soldier’s collar as their feet left the flat walkway.
Step by step, the young soldier took the stone risers. He kept his back upright and his footing centered on each narrow tread, passing the metal handrail without reaching for support.
The man in his arms kept his eyes fixed ahead on the ascending slope. With every pace upward, the empty lower street receded beneath them.
Reaching The Terrace
At the top of the stairs, the blue wheelchair sat waiting outside the café awning. The soldier set the man down gently into the fabric seat, ensuring his feet rested squarely on both metal footplates.
The older man looked up, his fingers unclenched on the armrests, and formed the words to thank him. The soldier straightened his posture, pressed his palms against his thighs, and gave a brief, quiet nod before turning to walk down the stone steps alone.
Know someone who stands up for others when no one else will? Send them this.



