It would have been rude to take a photograph. But here is what I saw, in the cental business district of DC, about three blocks from the White House: a small brown-skinned woman, in the uniform of a popular coffee house, with a shopping bag in her left hand, her half-eaten breakfast pastry in her right, and on her head, perfectly balanced, an enormous, plastic-wrapped platter of croissants. She passed me with the easy, rolling walk of a woman from a third-world village. Which she must have been, to have learned that skill so well. The platter barely wobbled. I stared after her in amazement and, yes, envy.
I hope she does well here.
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