Kiranja Mkuu
JF-Expert Member
- Feb 18, 2010
- 4,059
- 4,055
A Very Touching Story...
A few weeks ago, I was rushing around
trying to do some Valentine's Day
shopping done. I was stressed out and not
thinking very fondly of the
weather right then.
It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot
as I was loading my car
up. I noticed that I was missing a receipt
that I might need later. So
mumbling under my breath, I retraced my
steps to the mall entrance. As
I was searching the wet pavement for the
lost receipt, I heard a quiet
sobbing. The crying was coming from a
poorly dressed boy of about 12
years old. He was short and thin. He had no
coat. He was just wearing
a ragged flannel shirt to protect him from
the cold night's chill.
Oddly enough, he was holding a hundred
dollar bill in his hand.
Thinking that he had gotten lost from his
parents, I asked him what was
wrong.
He told me his sad story. He said that he
came from a large family.
He had three brothers and four sisters. His
father had died when he
was nine years old. His Mother was poorly
educated and worked two full
time jobs. She made very little to support her
large family.
Nevertheless, she had managed to skimp
and save two hundred dollars to
buy her children some Valentine's Day
presents (since she didn't manage
to get them anything on Christmas).
The young boy had been dropped off, by his
mother, on the way to her
second job. He was to use the money to buy
presents for all his
siblings and save just enough to take the
bus home. He had not even
entered the mall, when an older boy
grabbed one of the hundred dollar
bills and disappeared into the night.
"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked.
The boy said, "I did."
"And nobody came to help you?" I queried.
The boy stared at the sidewalk and sadly
shook his head.
"How loud did you scream?" I inquired.
The soft-spoken boy looked up and meekly
whispered, "Help me!"
I realized that absolutely no one could have
heard that poor boy cry
for help.
So I grabbed his other hundred and made a
run to my car.
A few weeks ago, I was rushing around
trying to do some Valentine's Day
shopping done. I was stressed out and not
thinking very fondly of the
weather right then.
It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot
as I was loading my car
up. I noticed that I was missing a receipt
that I might need later. So
mumbling under my breath, I retraced my
steps to the mall entrance. As
I was searching the wet pavement for the
lost receipt, I heard a quiet
sobbing. The crying was coming from a
poorly dressed boy of about 12
years old. He was short and thin. He had no
coat. He was just wearing
a ragged flannel shirt to protect him from
the cold night's chill.
Oddly enough, he was holding a hundred
dollar bill in his hand.
Thinking that he had gotten lost from his
parents, I asked him what was
wrong.
He told me his sad story. He said that he
came from a large family.
He had three brothers and four sisters. His
father had died when he
was nine years old. His Mother was poorly
educated and worked two full
time jobs. She made very little to support her
large family.
Nevertheless, she had managed to skimp
and save two hundred dollars to
buy her children some Valentine's Day
presents (since she didn't manage
to get them anything on Christmas).
The young boy had been dropped off, by his
mother, on the way to her
second job. He was to use the money to buy
presents for all his
siblings and save just enough to take the
bus home. He had not even
entered the mall, when an older boy
grabbed one of the hundred dollar
bills and disappeared into the night.
"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked.
The boy said, "I did."
"And nobody came to help you?" I queried.
The boy stared at the sidewalk and sadly
shook his head.
"How loud did you scream?" I inquired.
The soft-spoken boy looked up and meekly
whispered, "Help me!"
I realized that absolutely no one could have
heard that poor boy cry
for help.
So I grabbed his other hundred and made a
run to my car.
