People see me throughout the day; Jew or Greek, they pass me as they walk or hear me as I cry out to them. To those people, I am nothing but a beggar, one of many nuisances that they must deal with daily. Those people do not see me as a man, but a Cripple, a person whose stature is lower than nearly all others. All my life, I have lived in this city: Lystra, where people hoard more money than they do gods! And yet, I have no chance to leave this city, for I could not make it on my own. Besides, where would I go? This place has always been my home, and although there are few who care for me here, I do have friends. They are the ones who carry me every day from my home to the synagogue or wherever I decide to beg that day, and it is those same people who bring me back as well. For now, I suppose, it would be better for me to stay here.