raymond

Raymond sat down across from me at the Second Cup near Dufferin and Wilson. He had warm innocent eyes. When I saw him enter the coffee shop he was bent way over and one hand fumbled with the change in the other. It was a long process. The first thing I noticed when he sat with me was the arthritic disfigurement of his left hand. I smiled and began to chat with him as I drew another guy, in a dress shirt and yarmulke, working on a laptop.


I bought Raymond a French Vanilla latte and asked if I could draw him the next time we meet here. He was good with that. He looked excited. Raymond told me how he lost 50 pounds since coming to Toronto from Windsor and taking therapy at a new facility with great machines. Before leaving he worked on the strap of his fanny pack for about 20 minutes to tighten it one notch because of his new improved girth. He was fighting the limitations of a claw hand without ever complaining. He handles his disability amazingly, I admire his will. He is the Olympian god of cerebral palsy sufferers. I'll buy him coffee, in homage, whenever we meet. He walks a long way for his coffee, for the exercise and the treat.