The Miracle
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Urban Short Story
Urban Short Story
"You shouldn't help them," was a warning she too often heard in her young life. A warning she, one day, happily set aside...
Written by Mélodie Rivers; first draft published July 11 2014;
Written by Mélodie Rivers; first draft published July 11 2014;
He was on the corner of the street where she always walked to do her parents's chores. He just sat there, waiting, hoping without hope that someone would give him enough money. She looked at him daily, crying silently, her heart breaking as she imagined him there, during the cold nights, shivering, with no pillow, no blankets, no mattress, only the bare cold cement of the side-walk and his ripped coat. She would look down at her bags of grocery, guilt invading her, gnawing at her. She only wanted to give him everything she brought. She only wanted to give him even just one item. But she couldn't. Her father gave her only a small amount of money, and a specific list of groceries. Everything she bought, had to be there when she came back home, and the money was always used completely. And every week, she had to walk past him, and never be able to give him food; and invariably, she would be tortured during the night how hungry he must be, how thirsty, never being able to taste good food. He was a Christian, she afterward learned, and after a friend let him down and cut his help, he slowly fell into debts, and he became homeless. But because of his faith, he never turned to stealing; he gave his life entirely into God's hands. And she cried even more, knowing what he did, what he fought for.
Her father was rich; but he kept all the money he did to himself. He looked at the world, and believed it to be a burden, so he never helped people. And she would look at the passing people, look as some would drop a coin or two in the hands of the homeless. And all would fill her heart was a scream, as she wanted to shout at the world to help this poor man. "There must be someone rich around here who can help him", she would thought; but week after week, months after months, he was still there, still waiting, still cold, and still hungry. And she never forgot him.
6 months later, he moved to another street, a more busy street, but he was still penny-less and homeless. At that time, she got her first job. Swearing to do all she could to help him, she managed to do so. Her entire income had to be given to her parents, but she devised a way to sneak money. She pretended that it costed 6$ to buy her lunch, so she put that money aside. Since she was already eating well in her home, she sacrificed her lunch. She put 2$ aside each day from the 6$, and with the 4$ remaining, she would buy a big sandwich, and though she knew it wouldn't be enough, she still hoped that it would help him fight hunger. She would split it in three parts, keeping one-third for her, and giving him the rest. And when she was less working, she would altogether skip her lunch, and give the whole lunch to him. She was also allowed free sodas during her work, so she would sneak them out, and give them to him, hoping it would satisfy his thirst and give him some energy. He would always smile gratefully, and each time, he would bless her. Each day of that routine, she saw him gain some colour in his haggard face, and her heart would be each time a bit happier. But she still thought about the nights.
After a month of that routine to keep safe 2$, she had enough secret money to buy him a big fluffy blanket. After two weeks, she had enough money to buy him a pillow, and she felt more light-hearted as he told her that he was sleeping better. He knew secret places to sleep without disturbing anyone, so after two months, she got him a small tent and a sleeping bag, again from only the 2$ she was putting aside each day from her lunch money. Her father never knew about what she did.
She still couldn't do more, she couldn't give him a house, but she tried to make his life better. She would spend her lunch break with him, knowing him better, giving him company. Each time she had enough money, she would brought him books, clothes, a cooler to help him make food reserves. After awhile, she got him winter clothing, but she still felt bad for not being able to provide him with a furnace of sort. She settled for oil lamps, as they gave off warmth and light, but she still felt guilty. But he assured her that he was feeling better, and he would be fine for the moment, and she continued to furnish him food and comfort, books and candles, hoping, like him, that some miracle would help him out.
After a year, the miracle happened. She worked more often, so she always came back late to her parents's home, so her father reluctantly agreed to finance a loft for her in the city. Without any hesitation, and knowing how her father hated to come on the city, even to visit het, she let the homeless man live with her. Since she was living on her own, half of her income was now allowed to be used by her, so she furnished him with everything he needed. After another year, being now a respectable man, the once homeless stranger found a job as an app designer (a passion he acquired while reading all the books she gave him) and he made enough money to buy his own loft with ease, moving out from her apartment. He knew how fragile life and chances were, so he always put money aside, and lived modestly, enjoying his new life.
He never forgot she who cared for him, and he swore to do anything to help her out, even if it meant to do sacrifices.
As for her, she finally stopped crying inside, and she looked with happiness as the once homeless stranger she helped finally lived.
Her father was rich; but he kept all the money he did to himself. He looked at the world, and believed it to be a burden, so he never helped people. And she would look at the passing people, look as some would drop a coin or two in the hands of the homeless. And all would fill her heart was a scream, as she wanted to shout at the world to help this poor man. "There must be someone rich around here who can help him", she would thought; but week after week, months after months, he was still there, still waiting, still cold, and still hungry. And she never forgot him.
6 months later, he moved to another street, a more busy street, but he was still penny-less and homeless. At that time, she got her first job. Swearing to do all she could to help him, she managed to do so. Her entire income had to be given to her parents, but she devised a way to sneak money. She pretended that it costed 6$ to buy her lunch, so she put that money aside. Since she was already eating well in her home, she sacrificed her lunch. She put 2$ aside each day from the 6$, and with the 4$ remaining, she would buy a big sandwich, and though she knew it wouldn't be enough, she still hoped that it would help him fight hunger. She would split it in three parts, keeping one-third for her, and giving him the rest. And when she was less working, she would altogether skip her lunch, and give the whole lunch to him. She was also allowed free sodas during her work, so she would sneak them out, and give them to him, hoping it would satisfy his thirst and give him some energy. He would always smile gratefully, and each time, he would bless her. Each day of that routine, she saw him gain some colour in his haggard face, and her heart would be each time a bit happier. But she still thought about the nights.
After a month of that routine to keep safe 2$, she had enough secret money to buy him a big fluffy blanket. After two weeks, she had enough money to buy him a pillow, and she felt more light-hearted as he told her that he was sleeping better. He knew secret places to sleep without disturbing anyone, so after two months, she got him a small tent and a sleeping bag, again from only the 2$ she was putting aside each day from her lunch money. Her father never knew about what she did.
She still couldn't do more, she couldn't give him a house, but she tried to make his life better. She would spend her lunch break with him, knowing him better, giving him company. Each time she had enough money, she would brought him books, clothes, a cooler to help him make food reserves. After awhile, she got him winter clothing, but she still felt bad for not being able to provide him with a furnace of sort. She settled for oil lamps, as they gave off warmth and light, but she still felt guilty. But he assured her that he was feeling better, and he would be fine for the moment, and she continued to furnish him food and comfort, books and candles, hoping, like him, that some miracle would help him out.
After a year, the miracle happened. She worked more often, so she always came back late to her parents's home, so her father reluctantly agreed to finance a loft for her in the city. Without any hesitation, and knowing how her father hated to come on the city, even to visit het, she let the homeless man live with her. Since she was living on her own, half of her income was now allowed to be used by her, so she furnished him with everything he needed. After another year, being now a respectable man, the once homeless stranger found a job as an app designer (a passion he acquired while reading all the books she gave him) and he made enough money to buy his own loft with ease, moving out from her apartment. He knew how fragile life and chances were, so he always put money aside, and lived modestly, enjoying his new life.
He never forgot she who cared for him, and he swore to do anything to help her out, even if it meant to do sacrifices.
As for her, she finally stopped crying inside, and she looked with happiness as the once homeless stranger she helped finally lived.