It was an ordinary evening after a long day at work. I was tired and walking home when I noticed an elderly woman standing at the corner of the street. She was leaning against a fence, breathing heavily. Beside her were two large shopping bags. I approached her and asked if she needed any help.

— Thank you, son, — she sighed, — I just came back from the store… I overestimated my strength… my house isn’t far, but my heart is acting up again.

I couldn’t just walk away. I picked up her bags and walked beside her, listening to her labored breathing. On the way, she told me she lived alone: her husband had passed away a few years earlier, her children rarely called, and her pension barely covered her needs. Her voice was gentle and calm, and I felt both compassion and respect for her.