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Be More Human



The rain creates the atmosphere outside the window. Barely anyone passes by the pizzeria front as the thunder in the distance finally reaches my ears. It's time to go home, or I might get stuck here by the storm. 

Not having anyone waiting for me at home has been a strange feeling, but it's also been a weight off my shoulders. Yet some habits are hard to break, like feeling the time pressure to get things done. I eat the last slice of my personal pie and wipe my mouth. Delicious as always. I clean up the table up and place the aluminum tray on the counter-top. Paying for my food, I thank the guy and grab my umbrella. 

Outside the rain starts to fall harder. At least lightning isn't visible yet, or else I would be concerned. Within minutes I'm just a few steps away from home but something catches my attention. Well more like someone. Living in front of a park makes seeing bums sleeping on the benches fairly common. If I have money or food I tend to help out or at least make sure they are okay, but this kid was different. The trees above blocked a lot of the rain, but as I got closer I could still see he was wet from head to toe.

Slowing down my pace, I observed him a bit longer and came to realize he was barely any older than my daughter. His hair was up into a pony tail, even in this poor lighting I can tell it's jet black. The Mexican indigenous blood was obvious from the features on his face. He was handsome but pale. He didn't look dirty, or smelled... though the moist dirt around us was potent enough to clog the senses. He was trembling and it brought my feet to a stop. 

"Hey," I call out from a few steps away from him. He doesn't look up at me but keeps his eyes downwards towards the asphalt. My hand tightens around my umbrella handle as I stand before him awkwardly. 

"Are you okay?" I ask softly but loud enough for him to hear me. Another non-responsive minute passes between us. Obviously he's cold... He doesn't look homeless, he doesn't have any belongings. Just a young man sitting in the dark, wet and trembling... Nobody puts themselves in those conditions by choice though. My daughter's image keeps repeating in my head and my motherly instincts take effect. 

I'm only 60 seconds from home. Emptying out my pockets, I stuff my keys and wallet into my jeans and balance the umbrella between my knees. I undo the zipper of my favorite black sweater, and feel the warmth it provides leave my body. That sensation solidifies my choice and I take it off my back. I carefully place it around him over his shoulders. He doesn't stop me as I fix it. Hopefully this will help him with the temperature drop.

Raising the umbrella back over my head, I take one more glance at him and then walk up the last strip of the hill towards my home. Once I enter my apartment and dry off the rain from my skin, that I realize the tears running down my cheeks. He's alone out there... was I the first person to notice him, or care enough to even ask if he was okay? Much less do something about it?

I walk across the living room and look out the windows that face the park. I scan for the bench where I left him behind me just moments ago but the bench is empty... He must have left. The sweater wasn't there either. That brings a smile to my lips. Maybe me being a little bit more human towards him helped his situation somehow. I hope that is the case. I guess I'll never know.

Picking up my phone I call my daughter, when she picks up and her smiling face appears on the screen, all my worries wash away. 

"Hi, my baby. How are you today?" 

 

Dedicated to the woman that gave me life. 

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