what the..?

The walk from the apartment to work is barely long enough to listen to two song on the ipod. For those of you in Minneapolis, I'd venture so much as to say that it's the equivalent of the walk from Fallon to Peavey Plaza. Yeah, that close.
The other day after going home for lunch I was walking back to work along the canal, bopping along listening to my tunes, when I noticed this old woman with a walker about twenty feet in front of me who looked like she needed some help. I took out my ear phones and asked if she wanted me to help her. She gestured to her walker and to the door that was about five steps up a stoop. I grabbed her walker and carried it up to the door and asked if she needed anything else, she said no and reached into her pocket and handed to me what looked like a brown, withered, wrinkly ball. I took a look and quickly smiled and said no, no that's not necessary, but she insisted. I hesitantly stuck out my hand and asked what it was (slightly cringing I'm sure), to which she smiled and said, it's passion fruit. Ahhhhh, I thanked her, put my ear phones back in and made my way back to work. So sweet.