When you care for the least of these…
Three times this week, I’ve seen him. The first time, he was sitting in the middle of the square, just about 100ft from my front door. He is usually sitting on a little hand-made cart that helps him get around since both of his legs are missing from mid-thigh down, but the cart was nowhere to be seen. He was beating on an old guitar, yelling out some sort of song. There were several teenage boys, acting out the results of an afternoon spent in the local pivaren (pub), standing around him and teasing him. The man would periodically trade his guitar for a large stick that he would wave at the boys’ feet to keep them from kicking him too hard. The boys were laughing loudly, drowning out the man’s infandous song … (Read on …)
