Alvaro hoists his walker towards the elevator with his trash bag balanced on the seat. He struggles with each step. His mood is congenial, his smile is bright and full of hope. He is self-conscious of his slowness, doing his best not to get in front of people, trying not to slow them down. He is not bound by the limitations of his legs, but spurred from within to keep going. Every small step sends tiny tremors of pain upward along his legs, but he makes himself go the distance daily. Once, he fell with his cane outside, trying to make his round on the sidewalk and broke his glasses. He couldn’t afford new ones, so he would just move closer to things and people to see their outlines. He is thankful for the little things in life, the Meals on Wheels program, the automatic button that opens the door, the free coffee in the library on Sundays. He remembers life before his legs left him, but he understands what will happen if he doesn’t continue to move. The doctors told him about muscles and disuse atrophy. Now the days mark the struggle for independence and survival living among those people who many scan over with glancing gazes never really seeing them; they remain invisible.