A Hispanic man sits down next to me on a crowded F train. He looks like he’s in his mid-40s. He’s wearing glasses and a parka. He’s clean cut. He seems, inexplicably, like a good man.
He pulls out a big textbook. I look over his shoulder, and notice that it’s an elementary school math workbook. He’s reading a section on counting coins. How many nickels are in a dollar? How many pennies in a nickel? I’m not sure if he’s reading the book because he’s learning English, or because he’s learning basic math.
Either way, it makes me cry.
You should read this whole thing, because it’s very lovely.