Strolling. As a silent stranger.

Walking a street in downtown Carbonia yesterday. Two older matronly women coming toward me. One stumbles. Falls forward. On the pavement. Face down. Fortunately, cushions the fall with her hands. Sustains abrasions. Palms bleeding. Difficulty getting up. Her companion takes her under an arm. Tries to lift. But needs help. So I take the other arm. We get her  back on her feet. I’m doing this silently. Because I don’t speak enough Italian to even ask if she’s all right. Thought about saying that I don’t speak Italian. That I’m an Americano. But don’t. Because two younger women and a man also come on the scene. They offer help. And do the necessary inquiring. In Italian. I stay there. For 2 or 3 minutes. Then continue my stroll. As a silent stranger. –Jim Broede