Women Always Help

it is a glorious day, sunny and warm. It's hard to believe that rain is due again by tonight. As I walked my dog down the street, I saw an elderly lady sitting on the corner across from us, her walker askew next to her. She was waving at a man in a truck who drove on by. I ran over; she was okay, but needed help getting up. She was on her way to the senior citizen's lunch at the local Community Center. I couldn't lift her and hold Ollie's leash and was just about to tie him to a pole when two other women on their morning walk saw what was going on and came over. One of them had a lovely Irish accent. As we got her up, she muttered, "It's always the women who help." We asked her if she wanted us to walk with her to the center, about a block and a half way, but she thanked us and insisted she would be fine. She had her daily route mapped out. I think we all sensed that she wanted to hold onto her independence and let her go. I walked on, but I turned around after a few feet and watched to make sure she got safely to the next corner. She did. It made me think: I'll be old soon - we'll all be old soon - and I also want to be independent. How will I afford it? Winning the lottery is not much of an option. I hope that there will be someone who'll offer to help me up if I fall and then let me walk on, alone and proud.