Thrillhouse
Back from the dead
- Joined
- Jun 22, 2002
- Posts
- 1,752
It just brings a tear to my eye. Be sure to email this to everyone you know. Merry Christmas!
Last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute
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 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 two
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 save two
hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young boy
had been dropped off 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 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 realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry for
help. So, I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my truck.
Last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute
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 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 two
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 save two
hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young boy
had been dropped off 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 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 realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry for
help. So, I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my truck.
