She appears every night. I watch for her. She opens her window just a crack and jingles the little bells that she holds in her hand. She stands by a beautiful flowering potted plant. She does not know that I am photographing her with my zoom lens from my apartment across the avenue where she and I live. I press my face against the window and wave, but she does not see me. She is looking down, not across on our high floor level. I am proud of her dedication. She is a regular. She never misses an evening to show her gratitude to the front line workers in the pandemic that is raging. We live in the NYC epicenter. One day, hopefully, when it is safe to go unmasked and outside, I will see her and I will introduce myself and share with her the pictures that I took of her valiant stand each night as the horns and bells and cheers filled the 7pm slot for a few minutes.