I Gave My Last $100 to a Shivering Old Woman in a Wheelchair – The Next Morning, She Was Waiting for Me in a Black Luxury Car

My boy doesn’t complain. Not about the cramped space or the secondhand furniture or the fact that I’m never really awake when I’m home.

But I see it in his eyes sometimes… the worry that I’m breaking myself to keep us afloat.

That morning, I was walking home after a brutal 16-hour shift when something caught my eye near the metro station.

And there she was.

This skinny old woman, maybe 80, slumped in a beat-up wheelchair.

No coat worth calling a coat. Just a thin jacket, worn gloves, and a blanket that looked like it had lost its warmth decades ago.

Her hands were shaking. Her cheeks were dull and gray.

She had the look people get when no one’s looked at them for a while.

She saw me looking and said softly, “I just need something to eat, sweetheart. Doesn’t have to be much.”

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