He Spent Every Afternoon on the Same Bench — Then One Small Act of Kindness Made a Difference

Every single day, for as many years as I can remember, I made my way to the same worn park bench at the edge of Maplewood Park. The paint had long since peeled from its iron arms, and the wooden slats bore the smooth polish of decades of weather and weary visitors. To anyone passing by, I was simply another elderly man keeping to himself — a quiet, predictable presence, as permanent as the oak trees that arched overhead…
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