A neighbor thanked me for a simple kindness, restaurant takeout my diet wouldn't allow. So off I went, the food still hot and fresh, to find a someone who needed it more than I. He was young, wary, browned, and thin, as one might expect from homeless youth. He greeted me with a distant smile - measuring me, and what game I played. I told him my tale as best I could, and mentioned where the meal had been made. He studied me with understanding eyes and politely corrected my pronunciation, as he might his grandfather stumbling over a slangy rap song title. He took my offering and traded his thanks. A grin played his lips, a joggled memory perhaps. Taken aback, I managed, "Yes, that's the place," and went on my way, never too old to learn.