A willow bending under the weight of thick droplets of rain, this is what she reminds me of: her back arched by carrying heavy bags, she is dragging her little feet, moving at the speed of a snail…

It’s not just the bags she is carrying, but her many years too…

My guilt is pushing me to ask:

“May I help you?”

She looks at me a bit frightened, her drooping shaped eyes squinting. I try to reassure her:

“I am going your way and you would make me happy, if I could help.”

I am smiling. I can tell she is still hesitant, wondering if I am going to run away with her food. 

I am sure she must have had some bad experience in the past.

She looks ageless, her face reminds me of a dried-up prune with wrinkles running like rivers, I can only see the inquisitive expression in her eyes, although I can’t determine if they are green, brown or grey.  

I smile again and then, something extraordinary happens: she stops, puts down her bags and smiles back at me.  Her two hands stretched out, she touches my face so softly in a caress and says:

“Are you my angel? Are you coming for me?”

I don’t know what to say, but I take her hands in mine:

“I am no angel, I am just offering my help.”

“Take me and my bags with you, I am ready, I have been waiting for you.”

All of a sudden, the alarm rings and I wake up.