Kindness

I survived an abusive childhood filled with fear. In one particular instance, I was so scared, that I thought the only option I had, was to run away. I was 16.

So I did, not knowing where to go, I walked into the Mission at our train station, a refuge for those homeless and stranded. If they had space, they allowed you to stay, for a night. There were no beds, just blankets and sleeping bags, a cup of hot tea and a slice of bread with jam, but for me it was enough, a safe place.

An older, homeless man, dirty from living on the street, with un-kept hair, and a rucksack that held everything he owned,showed me warm smile, and gifted me his attention and patience. He made sure I was safe, and allowed me to cry, why he sat there, keeping me company.

To this day — I am 42 now — I will never forget the sweet kindness this man showed me. He gave me what he had, which was empathy, something I did not know from my home. A bigger present than anything I ever received before.

I have no idea what happened to him. After that day, I never saw him again, but I am grateful for his presence, however fleeting, and always will be.

May you all find someone to share your space, when you are in need.