There was always something special about that old lady who sat on that park bench every afternoon.
To the casual observer, she seemed harmless—just another elderly soul finding solace in routine. But those who paid closer attention couldn’t help but feel that there was something more, a quiet intensity, beneath her wrinkled smile.
She didn’t just feed the pigeons. No, it seemed as if she had some deeper connection with the birds as if their presence carried secrets shared only between them.
It was this mystery that one day drew a curious onlooker closer and unwittingly triggered an exchange that revealed the old lady’s sharp wit—a moment that would last long after the pigeons had flown away.
An elderly woman, a demanding individual, sat on a park bench to provide sustenance for the pigeons.
She even carried an entire loaf of freshly baked bread with her just to feed her regular visitors.
She happily gave each pigeon a small amount of food – a pinch at a time.
Then, out of nowhere, a man of about forty who had been watching her from a distance approached her and warned her not to waste good food on a flock of pigeons who would find food anywhere, especially when many people in Africa were starving. . .
The old lady said without hesitation and with mad anger:
“Well, I can’t throw that far!”
The man’s face froze in stunned silence as the old lady’s sharp reply cut through the air. Her words, though laced with humor, carried the weight of a lifetime of independence and defiance. She didn’t just feed the pigeons; she clung to the small joys and rituals that made her feel connected to the world around her.
In that moment, it became clear that her simple act of kindness wasn’t about waste—it was about finding solace, even the smallest, in a life she lived on her own terms. Realizing the depth of her resolve, the man quietly left, leaving the old lady to continue feeding her feathered companions, undisturbed and content in her own way.