Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some shopping done.
I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas season
right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot. As I was
loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy, I noticed
that I was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under
my breath, I retraced my steps to the shopping centre 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 yrs 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 note 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 Christmas presents. 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 notes 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 wondered. 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 realised that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
for help. So I grabbed his other hundred and ran off
Topic: A CHRISTMAS STORY (Read 537 times)