that man under the bridge
Roughly 40 years ago, Kim and I would head to downtown Miami early in the morning, where I’d drop her off at work before heading to my own job in a nearby suburb. A guy who apparently lived under an overpass on the route was out there every morning energetically smiling and waving to passersby. He seemed so happy. And we were always happy to see him. At this point in my life, I realize I learned a few things from that friendly stranger.
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