Chapter: Buckets and Bare Pockets (Continued)

Chapter: Buckets and Bare Pockets (Continued)

As the morning stretched into afternoon, the buzz of foot traffic slowed. The energy began to dip. There were still smiles, but they were getting harder to hold. The athletes and volunteers shuffled their feet, adjusted their buckets, and repeated the same lines to each passerby.

Then, just as the fatigue was starting to settle in, a woman approached. She was older, with a warm face and a kind, steady gaze. She smiled at the volunteer holding the bucket, and instead of dropping in the usual handful of change, she handed over a crisp ten-euro note.

“Thank you for doing this,” she said softly, looking at the athlete in the Special Olympics gear. "Your efforts matter. I see you."

For a brief moment, time paused. The weight lifted — just a little.

It wasn’t the money that made the difference, though it helped. It was the words. That simple recognition. It reminded the athletes that, in the sea of people passing by, some did see them. Some did notice.

And then the woman turned, disappearing into the crowd. Just like that. Gone.

But she had given more than her donation. She had given validation. A small spark of humanity in a day that could sometimes feel devoid of it.

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