a psalm for the struggle

It was the kind of eatery where you stand in line, place your order, and then step aside to wait for your food to appear. After I did just that, a young man took my place in front of the cash register. He ordered his food by using gestures and broken words. Paying was difficult for him, because one of his wrists was turned so that his fingers pointed back to his body. And walking to a table meant overcoming the uneven function of his legs. This young man struggled physically, yet courageously.