Out for my afternoon walk this past fall, a young man approached, holding an unlit cigarette in one hand and as we approached one another, I knew that he was about to ask something of me. Indeed the question came : "do you have a lighter?" As a long reformed smoker, the young man  was perceptive enough to know that I was about to start a lecture. I restrained myself for a moment but felt that a conversation with this young man was somehow predestined so swerved that no I didn't have a means of lighting anything but that as a reformed smoker who at his age easily smoked a pack or more per day of nasty unfiltered cigarettes but with great determination had chosen to quit. As the conversation about cigarettes continued, this young person began to tell me about his life. Cigarettes were the least of his problems. He told me that he was also addicted to heron. I told him that while I had never done heron, I had experienced many drugs that were popular in my day but had chosen sobriety because it was easier. At this point, he told me that his parents had divorced in an ugly manner and that his sister who was severely limited by autism. At this point, I shared my story with him: developmentally disabled and now dead brother whom I had loved deeply, parents who died much too early, addiction to alcohol, and many personality deficiencies and a determination to conform to my parents expectations. This young man and I headed our separate ways but I felt not just a surface connection but also a possible positive influence on him as he seemed ready to at least consider being the "man" of his family if for no other reason than the shear joy that being the grown up can be. I certainly hope so! That would make me happier then you might ever imagine. A young stranger that initially scared me is today a big part of the strength that helps see me through days like today where my brain injuries sometimes  block my path, but not today as I recall this small slice of my very rich life