An elderly man approached the gate. His wispy silver hair reached the middle of his arched back. He walked carefully with a slender cane. He knelt and began brushing debris off the nearest gravestone.

A little girl watched him move closer to the tree in which she hid.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Who’s there?”

“Up here,” she guided.

“Hello,” he said. “What are you doing up there?”

“Watching you.”

“Why?"

“I don’t know. Have been all winter. What are you doing?”

“Cleaning off the graves,” he told her.

“Why?”

“Why have you been watching me?”

“You’re interesting. Why are you cleaning off the graves?”

“Someone should.”

“Why not someone without a cane?”

“I want to help.”

“Why don’t you do something more important?”

“This is what I can do. I’m an old man. This is my way of helping.”

“But it doesn’t make a big difference,” she protested.

“What matters is not how big a difference we make. In the end, none of our actions have a great impact on the world. Our intentions mean everything.”