It was a gloomy afternoon with a continuous drizzle. As usual, I was walking home, but my eyes were attracted by an umbrella on the ground next to me. In that position, there is usually a disabled person who makes a living by selling calligraphy works. He has no arms, but his handwriting with his feet is amazing. Today, in addition to my disabled uncle, there is also an aunt with an umbrella.
I remembered that I had promised my friend to send her a painting before, so I went forward and asked, "Do you still sell calligraphy today?" Uncle smiled: "It's inconvenient to rain, so come back when it clears up." My paper and pen are a little wet. I'm afraid they would have been soaked if this kind man hadn't given me an umbrella. "I was taken aback, the aunt who opened an umbrella was just a passer-by! It's hard for me to imagine a person who is not related to me helping himself on the roadside. I can't help but cast my wondering eyes on my aunt.
Aunt still has food in her hand. She should have just bought it and was about to go home. She smiled and said, "Little girl, if you have bought calligraphy, you should have an impression on me. I often help him collect money and ink here, and sometimes my family will come to help. " I'm even more surprised My aunt even mobilized her family. It's like treating my uncle as a relative. Aunt saw my surprise and smiled gently: "Oh, it's also the neighborhood of the neighbor's house. It's hard to see him sitting here alone. "
My doubts gradually turned into understanding and moving. I smiled at my aunt: "You are really a good man, and you will definitely be rewarded." He got up and prepared to continue walking. At this time, it rained a little hard. I saw my aunt move her umbrella to my uncle's side, and her left shoulder was exposed in the rain, getting wet by the rain bit by bit. I opened my mouth to say something, but my aunt just shook her head. I had to walk forward without saying a word, and the cold rain seemed to turn into a warm current, flowing in my heart.
We often say that we care about others and attach importance to vulnerable groups, but who can really care about them and then help them? Aunt may not have bought my uncle's calligraphy or even given him money, but she made me feel the highest concern with her personal actions. That is to treat the vulnerable groups as friends or even relatives, without the help of hot pillow. As usual, just bring a cup of tea, send a bottle of water, hold an umbrella and chat with them on the roadside. This is caring.