For the Love of Shiny Shoes and Holiday Cheer
It’s a real Christmas miracle when a crook goes straight
Caroline could see the tiny tear rolling down her cheek reflected by a store window that proudly flaunted a dazzling pair of jet black heels. She stole one last look and reluctantly walked away, assuring herself fervently that one day she would not be utterly broke; she would own exquisite finery; she would —
Her blissful train of thought was interrupted by the significant click of cold metal. “If you want to get home unhurt, you better give me all the money you have right now.”
Caroline turned around uncertainly to face a middle-aged, gruff-voiced man holding a small gun. She merely stared at him in a terrified daze, before mustering the courage to speak — “I can’t do that.”
The man gave her an incredulous stare. “Alright then. Say your prayers.”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” said Caroline plainly.
The mugger was getting livid now. “Yeah, so what if it is?!” he almost yelled. “Give me your cash or say goodbye to your little life.”
And suddenly Caroline smiled. She glanced up at the bewildered man and smiled a little wider.
“I have a life. But you have a pitiful existence.” She went on without pausing. “I don’t have any money to give you. Frankly, I have nothing. But I cannot care less, because I’m on my way to a sparse, yet joyful dinner with a few people who are poor but happen to love me very much.”
The mugger was slightly taken aback as she stepped forward and gently pushed the gun away. Before he could retaliate, she went on. “The money you steal lasts you for how long? One week? A month? It can’t bring you the things that matter most. I’m truly sorry for whatever made you this way.”
Bitterness resonated in his voice as he demanded “Why do you care?”
Caroline sighed, “ Because everyone deserves to be cared for.” She flashed a warm smile again and hugged him. “Merry Christmas, sir.” With that, she was gone.
The man’s anger had subdued considerably. He was an amateur conman, but Caroline’s unflinching responses had somehow stung him. He felt pangs of guilt and remorse as he thought of all the people he had robbed. His torn old wallet was full of hard-earned money. Hard-earned, but not by him.
He shoved his hand into his right pocket to take it out. And then his left. He checked both the pockets again. And again. His eyes widened with horror. That hug. That little smile. He began running down the street, frantically looking in all directions.
That night, as Caroline was about to turn off the lights, she smiled slightly as she stole one last look at her dazzling new pair of jet black heels and the torn, old wallet lying next to it.
