The old man had spent the first half of his life alone, supporting himself with his craft.
His master had raised him single-handedly, too. After his master passed away, he began a life of wandering.
During the day, he scavenged for rubbish. At night, he laid cardboard beneath an overpass and covered himself with a salvaged quilt until morning. That was how he passed each day.
Work did not come every day, so he scavenged daily, selling what he found and saving the money to buy liquor.
Then, when he was sixty, he got up early one morning to scavenge and discovered a little bundle wrapped in cloth beside a rubbish heap.
At first, the old man thought it was an unwanted quilt. Looking closer, he realized it was an unwanted child with an unwanted quilt.
He was at a loss. He had no experience raising children, and he was homeless himself. He had no way to give this child a home.
He wanted to pretend he had seen nothing and turned to leave, but stepped on a can. The loud noise woke the sleeping baby, who promptly began wailing.
Muttering, "I came here for the quilt," the old man nonetheless dutifully carried the baby back with him.
He said, "You and that quilt are both rubbish nobody wants. Just so happens this old man collects rubbish."
And so the old man could no longer scavenge to buy liquor, because he had a child to feed.
He spent all the money left from his scavenging on formula and nappies. Once, he had scavenged to get himself a drink. Now, he did it to get the child milk.
During the day, he scavenged with the child strapped to his back. At night, he held the child as they slept beneath the