I saw a お爺さん (Ojīsan / senior citizen), in the cold, on the floor… weaving wire.
I can’t recall what made me stop, but there was something in the way he sat; a level of concentration that demanded I come over.
I remember I didn’t have the correct change and almost walked away.
I’m glad I didn’t. Now when I look back, I’m grateful that he wasn’t offended and agreed to sell it to me anyway, because otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten this: