When she was sixteen years old, she said, “I wish old people would stay inside. They walk so slow. They take up too much space on the sidewalk. Who wants to see them with their canes and walkers, anyway? It’s so depressing.”
When she was forty years old, she said, “I like to see old people out and about. It’s nice to see that they are still active. When I’m that old, I hope I can still walk around like that.”
When she was seventy years old, she noticed that the youth walked impatiently around her. She said, “I used to make fun of old people when I was younger. I thought they were so slow and weak. Now I guess I am one of them.”
After crossing her arms in her lap, she looked up at the cloudless sky before glancing over her shoulder.
“Thank you for pushing my wheelchair,” she said.