I watch as Elizabeth distributes soup to the homeless. She moves so elegantly it’s almost poetic. I have been coming here for a few weeks. I’m not homeless. I just come to watch her. She is a petite woman, barely five foot, with soft blonde hair swept back into a loose ponytail, framing her bright blue eyes. She always has a smile on her face, a broad toothy one. Her warm smile is wasted on those street urchins. She is always volunteering at the church, at the homeless shelter, anywhere she can. She is such a kind and gentle soul and that’s why I have to be here with her.
