“I’m happy to help” I told her, never realizing the depth of my offer.
Heading outside planters in hand I looked up, then I realized this was one complicated job.
The third floor window had a rot iron plant holder, the old woman wanted to see the plants from that window.
A misshapen grin spread as I pondered a permanently painted shut window, three stories up.
It came to me, I threw a ball of string over the iron holder creating a crude pulley. An hour later I had both plants hanging where she could see them, brightening her day.
