There he was, sitting on the same park bench he called home every morning.
7:15 a.m.
The lady who always went for an early morning run while pushing her daughter in a stroller came by.
He had decided her daughter must be three, maybe four. She was precious, he thought. He had never had children.
He smiled and nodded, but the lady continued running.
7:30 a.m.
The young newlyweds strolled by eating muffins for breakfast before work. They were good together, he thought. He had never been married.
Another smile offered, but not returned.
7:45 a.m.
The businessman who walked through the park as a shortcut to work, always on his cell phone, was next.
The businessman doesn’t seem happy, he thought. Too busy and stressed out, most likely. He had never had a job he felt was important.
He smiled again, though not as widely. Just as he had expected, the businessman did not notice.
7:55 a.m.
A young woman, early twenties, he supposed, started walking in his direction. He had not seen her before. Her face seemed to be hiding the sadness and troubles of the world. She continued towards him. What was she doing, he wondered?
As she drew closer, the woman took in his grayish-green, tattered trench coat; his holey, frayed jeans; his worn gloves, unshaved facial hair, and sorry excuse for shoes.
In a few short steps she was right in front of him. He looked at her through his gray, lifeless eyes, wondering what she was going to do and why she had approached him.
She reached into her purse, pulled out a bag of Skittles and two twenty dollar bills. The woman sat them down next to him on the bench, turned, and walked away, but not without looking back to glance at him once more.
For the first time in years, he was happy. Not because he now had the first bit of food and money he had had in a long time, but because someone had smiled back for the first time since his mornings on the park bench began.
• • •
Each day that passed left the man wondering who the young woman was and if he would ever see her again, but every day passed by the same.
7:15 a.m.
The lady ran by with her adorable daughter. The man would smile, and sometimes even wave to the little girl, but to no avail. Neither mother nor daughter acknowledged him.
7:30 a.m.
The newlyweds walked by with their muffins. The man would smile and nod, but the couple never seemed to notice.
7:45 a.m.
The businessman walked by on the way to work, on his phone as always. The man smiled, but the businessman continued walking.
The man wondered who the woman could be. She was a student, he thought. Yes, a college student. He speculated she wanted to be a nurse; or maybe a teacher; perhaps a veterinarian. No, she wanted to start an organization, one to help children, or third world countries, or some other noble cause like that. Whatever it may be, it must be something great, something helpful that could change the world. He assumed that must be the kind of person she was – a true humanitarian. She had, after all, given him an invaluable gift.
And so every day went by identical to the one before it – the man saw the same people in the same place and still had the same curiosities about the woman. He never used the money
and only ate two of the Skittles, but he never forgot the smile. It was the first time in a long time
he had been acknowledged. He somehow felt needed, appreciated even, in a world that had repeatedly tried to make him feel otherwise.
7:55 a.m.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a familiar face walking towards him…it was her. The man thought she seemed possibly more troubled than she did when he had seen her before.
Once she got to the bench, she reached into her purse, the same one she had last time, and pulled out one twenty dollar bill and a pack of Tic Tacs. She placed them on the bench, but seemed almost ashamed to do so.
She offered a small, apologetic grin and said, “Sorry, it’s all I have to give right now.”
The man looked at her, shocked at what she had just said.
“You’ve already given me the greatest gift in the world,” he said.
She stared at him curiously, unsure of what he meant.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you very much.”