The Evil of Disability

I'm rolling down the sidewalk on 5th Avenue, headed home after a very pleasant lunch date with an old friend.
A man is approaching headed in the opposite direction. Fiftyish, balding, somewhat plump, light blue short-sleeved shirt. Our eyes meet as we near each other. Without taking his eyes off of me, as he passes by me, he quickly crosses himself.
Yes, crosses himself. I was raised catholic, so I wouldn't be mistaken. He definitely was not shooing away a fly. Was he saying a little prayer for me? So that my sins be forgiven and I be cured and walk again? Or was he thanking the sweet lord that it was me and not him in the wheelchair? Was he asking for protection against life's perils, accidents, illnesses, that could result in his becoming disabled? Or anyone in his family becoming disabled? Or any of his friends and acquaintances becoming disabled?
With the sign of the cross was he warding off the evil of disability? The evil of disability personified by none other than unsuspecting, just going about my business, having a nice day, living a normal life lil' ol' me?

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