Hiro

I met an old Man once; one at the end of his life. His name was Hiro. Hiro taught me to appreciate the others in front of yourself that make you yourself. He taught me to remember that it is those others that are ultimately significant, and that you are significant only because of those others. He taught me that care is not automatic, not genetic, and not perpendicular; but eclectic, fluid, and colorful. He taught me that roots derive partially from inheritance, partially from good fortune, and mostly from endurance. He taught me most of this without trying, and without saying more than a few sentences over the course of each time I met him.