On Monday at Chester train  station, as we waited for our train home, Lyn and I saw a guy with fairly severe cp go and talk to the station staff at the gates three or four times. He was using a powerchair and a lightwriter, and he had a high-vis jacket on. At first I thought nothing of it and ignored him, but the way he kept returning drew my attention. I started to wonder whether he  was okay and whether we could do anything to help him, so I asked Lyn about it. She told me that I should mind my  own business; for all  we knew, the fellow could just be one of the station staff doing his job. She was right, of course. After all, why should we have interfered just because we had  the same disability? Yet I can’t help thinking that if the guy was having difficulties communicating with the station staff, wouldn’t it have been better for us to help a fellow crip out?