The following story is true, sent in via email by a man named Gale.
The mid-80s. Detroit. The boy didn’t have much. He was one of those teens most people won’t notice.
Each day, he walked to and from school with a ratty backpack on his shoulders, containing a pitiful lunch he made himself, since he had no mother to prepare meals.
He had no father, either. The boy was raised by his aunt, who spent her life in the arms of some guy she met at a bar, or lost at the bottom of a bottle.
His aunt’s life was such a mess she couldn’t even remember to do the grocery shopping regularly. So the boy got pretty good at buying groceries.
Truth told, he actually liked grocery shopping. The supermarket was his jam. He loved the clean, crisp aisles, with food piled high on shelves. He loved the water-sprinklers, misting vegetables in the produce department. He loved the elevator music.
Today, he was exiting the store with an armful of groceries when he was met
by an older man, standing outside the supermarket, asking for handouts.
The young man’s heart was pricked when he saw the man. He offered the man his sack of groceries.
The grocery bag was full of peanut butter, jelly, frozen French fries, a gallon of two-percent, Frosted Flakes, and other odds and ends. This was supposed to last the boy for an entire week.
The man smiled his tooth at the kid. There was something wet in his eyes. “God bless you, son.”
The kid flashed a return smile, one with a little pain behind it. That was HIS food. He walked home empty handed.
The following week was pretty tough. It’s hard to function when you’re hungry. Hard to fall asleep, too. Digestive acids start to hurt your stomach. Mostly, you just lie in bed, thinking about sandwiches.
The boy ate free…
