Last year, I took a sightseeing trip to Washington, DC. I heard a voice say, "Can you help me?" When I turned around, I saw an elderly blind woman with her hand extended. Immediately, I pulled out all of my change and placed it on her hand without even looking at her. But the blind woman smiled and said, "I don't want your money. I just need help finding the post office." In an instant, I realized what I had done. I acted with prejudice--I judged another person simply for what I assumed she had to be. I hated what I saw in myself. The thing I had forgotten about myself is that I am an immigrant. I left Honduras and arrived in the US at the age of 15. I started my new life with two suitcases, my brother and sister. Through the years, I have been a doorkeeper, cashier and pizza delivery driver among many other humble   jobs, and eventually I became a network engineer. In my own life, I have experienced prejudice. I remember a time--at the age of 17 --when I was a busboy, I heard a father tell his little boy that if he did not do well in school, he would end up like me. But now, living in my American middle--class lifestyle, it is too easy to forget my past, to forget who I am, where I have been, and to lose sight of where I want to be going. That blind woman on the streets cured me of my blindness. She reminded me of my belief in humility  . By the way, I helped that lady to the post office. I hope to thank her for the priceless lesson. How did the writer give the blind woman money?
In a modest way. In a polite way. In an impatient way. In a painful way.