It was many years ago. I was in my twenties and working in Manhattan. On occasion, I would notice how blind people would wait at a corner with an arm out so that someone could help them cross the street. Not surprisingly, some kind stranger would take their arm, then help them cross once the light changed. And while I admired this small act of kindness, I always felt too shy to try this myself.
One day, while standing at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 47th street, a man stood next to me as I waited for the light to change. He was wearing dark sunglasses and was holding a cane. Suddenly, he raised his arm. Being the one standing closest to him, I felt compelled to do what I had always resisted.
Just as the light changed, I grabbed the man’s arm and said, “Okay, we can cross now.” The man tore his arm from my grip, turned to me and said “Let go of me, can’t you see I’m trying to hail a cab?”
It turns out the man was neither blind nor wanted to cross the street. I have never attempted to assist a blind person again since that day.
