Two houses down from us lived Mrs. Bennett.
“Build things people actually need,”
She was seventy-eight and lived alone in a little blue house she’d owned since the early eighties.
She used a wheelchair after a bad fall and several surgeries left her unable to walk safely.
Mason adored her.
He carried her groceries inside. He dragged her trash cans back after collection day.
Sometimes I’d look out my kitchen window and see him sitting on her porch steps while Mrs. Bennett sat inside the doorway telling him stories.
She used a wheelchair after a bad fall
She’d been an Army nurse during the Vietnam era.
Mason once came home and announced, « Mrs. Bennett has met more interesting people than everyone in this neighborhood combined. »
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