A New York City busker is the recipient of love, affection, cheers, kisses and souvenirs from around the world. Or, sometimes, a plaintive shrug when a commuter cannot locate a dollar. Once when I was singing in the subway, such a man walked away dejected, then came bounding back, beaming, proudly offering a fresh yellow apple from his groceries. Yes, the money makes a difference, but I’m thankful for it all.
“Grateful, grateful, truly grateful I am.
Or hope for more, or dream of more.