“Someone Noticed,” Poem, Mckenzie Fischer.

I see him every Friday. Thick accent, careful smile, buggy stacked the same way, two bags of

bird seed, a pound of shrimp, a pound of catfish. He never misses.

I remember noticing the knots first. Every bag tied, double-tied. After a few weeks I started

helping him. I bag, he double-knots, I carry groceries to the cart. Sometimes he needs a second

buggy. Normally we have a stocker help, but I step in because I know his broken English makes

it hard to explain. I tell the other cashiers to tie his bags if I’m not around. He looks surprised

every time, like it’s a small miracle someone cares.

He pays in hundred-dollar bills. Always polite, quiet. Once, he mentioned his daughters. Bird

seed made me think of them. I wondered how he managed everything, wondered how honest,

hardworking people survive without anyone noticing.

Weeks pass. I don’t notice he’s gone until almost a month later. Among the TikToks and news

alerts about ICE, it hits me. No Friday wave, no smile, no familiar routine. My stomach tightens.

I think about all the Fridays he showed up, all the grocery bags tied, the small talk about shrimp

and catfish, the quiet trust.

I hope his daughters are safe, not confused, maybe even smiling, waiting for him. Maybe, just

maybe, he’s still with them, feeding the birds, going to a different grocery store. Deep down I

know they took him away. He would never miss a Friday.

Mckenzie Fischer writes when she feels there is nothing left to do but tell the truth. This piece comes from her experience working with the general public and witnessing how easily humanity can be overlooked. She hopes her writing encourages empathy toward immigrants.