The Pointed Finger

I saw a crash in our carpark a couple of weeks ago. One of the women repeated her disbelief over and over again. I wasn't surprised though. I've been wondering when I'd witness a collision amidst all this traffic.

I remember once I was at the scene of a crash a few years back and I was asked to testify, but I refused. I hadn't actually seen whose fault it was. I couldn't stand up in court and say anything really, just that one lady was seriously mad and screaming about her car.

It's hard to know who's really at fault in tough situations. In fact I can't remember many situations that have made me furious and I've actually pointed the finger in the right direction. Often it ends up pointing back at me. Not because I'm into self-flagellation; just because I can do something about my part. Generally. Hopefully.

We were at a Pandasal stall the other day. It's like a bakery...but super-cheap. The kids love it because they ask Mum for 3 brownie slices each and she actually says yes!

A man came up to me and asked if I could buy him one too and I said yes to him as well. Not because I was guilted into it; not because it made me feel like a wonderful person; just because it's the little acts of kindness that change the landscape of this world. When everyone's pointing fingers at who's to blame, giving a man some lunch can make him feel human again.