One particularly frigid winter day I came into a young man trying to keep his shoes together outside a church. His naked head and ragged coat let the elements attack him, and his eyes appeared to be very depressed. I realised at that point I had to act.
I hesitated as I went towards him. What if he were dangerous? Should he reject my assistance, what then? Still, something about his delicate manner kept me fixed in place. Trying to attach his shoes more securely, I knelt next to him and offered to assist with them.
Silent while I worked, he watched me with a mixture of appreciation and incredulity. Along with my scarf to keep him warm, I brought him a steaming bowl of soup and a warm tea when I finished. I scrawled my address on a piece of paper and thrust it into his hand as I stood to go.
Trying to project hope and compassion, “if you ever need a place to stay or someone to talk to come find me.”
Tears welling in his eyes, he glanced at me and I knew I connected with him. I felt as I turned away that our meeting would have long-lasting effects.
Ten years passed and things unfolded naturally. Often wondering whether the young man had turned his life around, I considered One Tuesday night, then, I was visited unannounced by a police officer.
The officer’s austere manner startled me when I unlocked the door. But I knew this was no typical visit when he introduced himself. The officer handed me a picture, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw the young man from the church steps.
The police told me he was the same individual I had assisted all those years ago. Though he had been homeless and barely surviving, my little deed of compassion gave him the bravery to start again in life.
I became rather emotional listening to his account. He shared with me his challenges, his addiction, and his path towards police officer qualification. Though I knew he was the one who had worked hard, he credited me for giving him a second shot.
Our meeting served as a reminder of how profoundly someone’s life may be changed by even the most modest deeds of compassion. Looking once more at the picture, I realised I had been a part of something far more than myself.
Sometimes the only things needed to permanently transform someone’s life are a scarf, a bowl of soup, or some nice words. And when I thought back on that accidental meeting, I realised I would keep searching for chances to improve the life of people around me.
