Story: An Encounter with Homeless Kid

I had never noticed this feeling in me. It was a weird kind of feeling. But it left me so fulfilled, happy and satisfied that words come short of even describing it.

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It had been a rainy day. A storm had just blown over. Everyone was enjoying an evening inside. It was sort of one of those days that announce the beginning of the winters. There might even be a snowfall in the coming days. Greyish sky, horizon invisible in the whites and sun, a no-show! I loved this atmosphere and these kinds of days.

I was just returning from the office. I work at one of the most popular daily newspapers of daily London. We had just been given a party because our sales and readership had been going up this year and peaked yesterday, making it a record for the paper. In short, I was happy; covered from head to toe in warm clothes that protected me from the piercing wind I thought of giving the local coffee shop a short detour. I went inside and took my favorite seat beside the window. The inside was warmth-radiating, giving it a look of a mother’s lap. This was one of the reasons why I loved this coffee shop. It gave the sense of closeness and intimacy that I couldn’t find anywhere else.

I had just begun to enjoy the coffee in front of me that I realized that a little kid had made his way through the door and was pointing towards my shoes. He must be around 8-10 years old. I was so surprised in that instant that I looked up towards the nearby waiter who realized that the kid was disturbing me. He took him by the ear, slapped him and literally threw him out of the door. The polish and brush he was carrying went flying out of his hand down the nearest gutter.

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I had never seen anyone cry so harder. He gave me a last searching glance from the window and started to walk away. The busy, corporate people outside didn’t even notice that a shoeless, sock-less, sweater-less little child was walking in their midst. No one was even willing to pay heed to him. I rushed to the door. The waiter stopped me and demanded the bill which I gave him. In those couple of minutes I lost sight of the little kid.

That night I couldn’t sleep. I lay on my bed turning one way and then another. I couldn’t forget the lasting, empty look in those little eyes.

I took a leave the next day and arrived at the same coffee shop. I began searching for the little one. I spend all day looking for him but I couldn’t find him anywhere. When I began to lose hope, I saw him down an alley just sitting by himself. I thanked God and rushed towards him.

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I bent down and hugged him. The amazed look in his eyes was better than any money I had ever earned. I asked him about his family. He said he didn’t have any. I took him to a nearby store and bought him shoes and new clothes.
I asked him what he wanted. Once again, I was amazed at the self-respect the little one had. He asked me to buy him another brush and polish and he would polish my shoes every day for everything that I had bought him. Tears began to flow from my eyes. I had seen people with less respect for themselves than this little child here.

What I want to relate here is that it changed my whole life… I began to understand that not all beggars were the same. Some were different. Some were steadfast and choose to work rather than ask for money. I thank God every day for having met that little child who shook my soul and changed me once and for all.