The Man with the Beard

I saw a man with a beard on the subway today. You don’t often see beards like that. It was a wonderfully scraggly beard that stuck out from his chin like an extension of his smile. I liked him as soon as I saw him. I liked him even more when I realized he was in the company of a two or three year old boy for whom he had all the time in the world, and then a little more. I’d love to have a beard like that: spilling out of the sparkle in his eyes, tumbling over his round, red cheeks, breaking on his chin. You don’t often see beards like that.

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