When my vison was at its worst, I asked the grocery clerk to help me make the debit card transaction.

She must have tried to mentally block my pin number when she entered it, because it was wrong. She tried again. Wrong again. Now the machine wouldn’t take our input at all and the groceries had already been rung up.

My wife hadn’t her purse with her, and we were both in walkers.

The big man behind us said he would pay. We got his name and address and put a check in the mail as soon as we got home.

That man deserves the “Galahad Award.”