I don't make a habit of falling down. In fact I really try to avoid it. Falling down is not good for you. Nine years ago, after spending a day roaming all over London, I was really tired, and took a fall, a face-plant actually, smacking my face into a hard London sidewalk. That fall left me with a bruised left cheek and I went through the rest of the ten day trip with a half purple face. There were people around who rushed to help me up and made sure I was ok. Today, nine years later (I obviously don't make a habit of this) I did it again. It was a beautiful, almost warm day and a friend and I took a walk around downtown Fort Wayne. We had brunch at a coffee shop on The Landing, walked through Promenade Park, with time out to swing on one of the big grown up size swings, and then walked back to my apartment along the River Greenway. It was a lovely walk until about three blocks from my place when a bit of uneven sidewalk tripped me up and I fell down hard. Happily I didn't land on my face this time and I didn't break my glasses, which is good since they are new. But the happy part of this, and another reassurance that chivalry is not dead, is that my friend immediately started to help me up and at the same time a car stopped beside us and a gentleman I had never seen before jumped out and rushed over to help. Between these two strong men they managed to get me on my feet, with very little fuss. Needless to say I was shaken but their obvious concern was so reassuring that I felt good. Strange as that sounds. After it was all over my friend came back to my place with me, half holding me up all the way, settled me on the couch and put an icepack on my left knee, the one I had come down hard on. So all's well that ends well, chivalry lives and life is good.
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