The Bagel Pair

Bagel Shop Pair
The bustle of the bagel shop continues but is sweeter now with their quiet arrival.
One leads the other, with a firm grip of the hand. Both are nearly the same age, in their 60’s.
They have the same gentle stature. However, the one being led has Down’s Syndrome.
“George, would you like orange juice or chocolate milk?” George’s reply is only understood
by the one who loves…chocolate is chosen. They sit in silence, each content.
The man leading, reads the paper and looks up occasionally to assure George’s comfort:
wipes his chin, adjusts the straw. A trip to the bathroom is in order. I marvel at the patience,
the kindness of the one who cares: week after week, day after day…for how long? I wonder.
“Excuse me,” I say, “My name is Jeane. I see you here every week and would love to hear your
story if you care to share.”
“Of course! My name is Pat and this is George. We were neighbors long ago and before
George’s parents died, my wife Patty and I, offered to become his guardians for as long as we
all lived.” He smiles at George. ”George has been with us now for sixteen years. We are his people.”
I take Pat’s hand, squeeze it and George’s too and now I too am one of their people. Each time I
see George, I leave him with something like a piece of fruit or a kiss on the cheek. When I kiss
him, his face gets all squinty and smiley. Pat teaches him my name and I can understand
George’s repetition though it takes him a while. One day though… George struggled to
speak: “George do you remember her name? Tell me her name George.”
He made several efforts: suh…suh …sh sh sh…and then it happened…He got all smiley again
and said it out loud, “Sunshine! “
I’m now one of George’s people. Jean E. Taddonio

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