“A box of Raisin Bran costs nine dollars.”  I whispered quietly to the uncaring rows of groceries before me.  “Nine dollars.”  I repeated, as if saying it again would magically conjure the remaining four dollars I would need. 

          I reached into my pocket to pull out the 5 wrinkled, dirty dollars I had.  The sickly white and green face stared up at me, laughing.  I counted the money, knowing it would not add up, but hoping… somehow hoping it would change as I touched it.  Perhaps I had mistake one of the bills!  Could my tiny wad contain a five dollar bill?  Or even a ten!

          My heart raced with excitement.  I carefully turned the bills, looking at each one separately, crinkling the edges to make sure I had missed none.  It was not to be.  I had only five dollars and the box in front of me would have to remain on the shelf.  My stomach growled at me, hungry and angrily demanding food.  I counted my money once more, spreading the bills out so the corner of each one could be seen.  See? I thought to my discontent belly.  There is not enough!

          I stuffed worn out bills back into the pocket of my filthy jeans and trudged slowly out the door.  The cashiers looked at me as I left, my appearance making me immediately suspect.  I hunched my shoulders and stared at the floor in front of my feet.  My thin flannel over coat and with my pale skin peeking out from several spots on my jeans made it impossible to hide anything.  The cashiers shrugged and went back to their work, ignoring me as I made my way out of their store.

          In fact the whole world did that.  They ignored me as best they could and hoped I would go away.  The world hid me more effectively than any act I could commit.  The people walk by me, unconsciously avoiding me, as if my dingy appearance could somehow tarnish their own.  I was not their concern, not anybody’s.  The people of the city were as cold and heartless as the air around me.  Their busy lives and schedules had no time for one lonely man with nothing more than rags on his back.

          I reached into my pocket as these dismal thoughts filled my head  and curled my fingers around the last of my money.  I pulled it out of my pocket and held it to my breast, cupping it with both hands.  I held it as a drowning man holds a life jacket.  This could buy me relief.  Perhaps it was not the answer to my problems but it would at least help me forget them.  I could forget the world just as the world had forgotten me.

          With grim purpose I strode towards the liquor store I knew to be two blocks away.  I shoved through the sea of people as they parted before me like the red sea did for Moses.  What a shame that I was no messiah, no favored man under the protection of god.  Perhaps if I was, people would see past the dirt on my clothing and look within.  There was nothing wrong with my eyes or my soul.  It was there for anyone who cared to see.

          “Mamma.. How long do we have to be here?”  I heard a tiny voice interrupted my thoughts.  I stopped walking and looked around curiously.  That little voice, so sweet and innocent but also so full of pain.  It was the voice of a child who had too early been subjected to hunger and homelessness.  I saw her standing under the awning of a building beside her mother.  Her mother held a basket of roses, offering them to passers-by for any money they could spare.  People ignored them like they ignored me.

          The girl had blond hair that would be lustrous and beautiful if it was not so ratted and dirty.  She had big blue eyes that watered from the cold air that blew around her.  She shivered and her tiny teeth chattered.  Her mother was dressed no better than her daughter and appeared as if she would collapse at any time.  As I watched her I saw her cough so violently I thought she would knock herself over.  She covered her mouth as she coughed and when she drew it away she quickly wiped it on her robe.  I thought I saw blood on her hand.

          As if I were sleep walking, I went towards the girl and her mother.  I was enchanted by the child, I couldn’t help but wonder what she could be, what potential she had.  She was being wasted, here on the streets.  I wanted to reach out to her and save her.  That thought stopped me.  What could I do?  I had only five dollars to my name and I had no more hope of bettering my life than she did.

          I had five dollars.  I could go waste it at the liquor store and forget my problems for a while.  I could walk away and never think of this little girl and her mother again.  I almost did that.  I told my body to turn and walk away, but I didn’t obey.  I couldn’t leave this girl, I couldn’t forget her lovely face.  I could keep the five dollars and forget for a time or I could give the money to the child and be remembered forever.  I could hold her smile in my heart and I would never be alone, not even on the darkest nights.

          I knelt before the child while she looked at me with huge, trusting eyes.  Her mother watched me warily and continued to offer her flowers to the people on the street.  They ignored her, like they always did.  I took the girl’s tiny fist in my hand and gently opened her fingers.  When her palm was facing up into the sky I placed my money in her hand and closed her finger tips around them.  She knew the significance of the bills and she pulled on her mothers robe to show her.

          The child’s face shined with surprise and happiness.  She was hungry and she now knew she could eat today.  She looked back at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezing me as tightly as her tiny arms could. 

          “Thank you,” she breathed in my ear.  I stood up when she let me go.  I felt warmer than I ever had before and a smile crossed my face for the first time since I could remember.  I had done the right thing.  I may never see those two again but I could always hold their gratitude and smiles in my heart.  I would never have to forget again.