One morning, he was up earlier than usual, folding his sleeping bag, and there were three smaller forms in sleeping bags at his feet, all you could see of their occupants was long, blond hair: three teen girls, probably runaways. In this town of shameless conspicuous consumption, there are few places for girls like this to safely go. He was standing guard over them while they slept on the sidewalk on Van Nuys Boulevard in the heart of the San Fernando Valley. I stopped, looked at them then looked up at him, he watching me stoically, and I said, "Chivalry is not dead," and he smiled at me for the first and only time since. An unlikely angel? Not.
When you see him next give him a *mental* hug and kiss from me, would you? Or a real one if you really like?That's one of the most moving things I've heard in a long while and it's put all my
petty ruminating lately to shame. Those poor girls. I'll pray for them all...Ah, that
sounds a little crappy and sanctimonious, but I shall anyway.
(Big gaudy tiara eh? LOL! I had to wear one at a wedding but somehow...erm..lost it! and the tiara,
)Love Petra xx
