In the course of her normal grocery errand, Ciara comes upon a homeless man, which causes her to be interrupted. On the next day, she discovers the man who has been waiting for her, with a confession ready to be spoken.
My life has become straight out of a Hallmark movie over the course of the past two days.
My children range in age from four to eight years old, and I am a mother to four of them. When my husband, Bruce, is working as an engineer, I am juggling the responsibilities of being a part-time school teacher. The life that we lead in our house is uncomplicated but rich in satisfaction.
On the whole, I am able to anticipate what will happen in my life. On top of that, I organise the children and our house, and I commute back and forth between my jobs. Nevertheless, yesterday was a refreshing departure from the usual routine.
So there I was, going about my usual routine of going to the grocery store, with my shopping list in hand, my mind running through the daily maths of managing the household. I was eager for the caffeine to start flowing through my veins, so I took a few sips of my coffee.
It was at that moment that I came across him, a homeless man who was standing outside the store with his eyes set on the food that was inside. I took a brief look at him, and the feeling of hunger that he expressed hit me like a blow right in the gut. I was walking up to him before I really realised what had happened. I was struck by something deep within me.
“Please excuse me, sir. Are you feeling hungry? With the intention of appearing as kind as possible, I inquired.
His retort was straightforward, but it had a big impact.
The tone of his voice was worn out, but it included a trace of optimism. “More than you can imagine,” he said.
This was a man who was in desperate need of some cheering up in his day. When I looked at him from one perspective, he reminded me of my grandfather, a man who had experienced his fair share of adversity, but none of it had made his eyes more stone-cold.
On the spur of the moment, I extended an invitation to him to go grocery shopping.
He responded by saying, “Miss, I do not have any money.” “I’ll be fine.”
It’s all on me… “Hello, my name is Ciara,” told her.
I felt a chill run down my spine as I watched his eyes well up with gratitude and blessings as he told me that he was grateful. The action was so uncomplicated for me, but it actually meant a great deal to him.
“My name is Martin,” he introduced himself.
During our stroll through the market, the man added the bare necessities to my cart, which was already crammed to the brim with vegetables and fruits that my children thrived on.
He asked, “Tell me about your children,” and meant it.
I told him everything there was to know about the twins, including how they fell in love with football all of a sudden, despite the fact that they were frail boys who had not yet developed any muscle. I related to him the story of Emily, the youngest member of the family, who loved nothing more than sucking on candy and popping bubbles that she had requested her brothers to blow.
At long last, I shared with him the story of my eldest child, Jemma, who, at the age of eight, consumed books that were well beyond her age range.
“They all sound lovely,” he added as he assisted me in packing the items into brown paper bags. “You’re a great mother.”
Fast forward to today, when I found myself back at the grocery store because I had given both milk cartons to the man, which meant that the children did not have cereal to eat in the morning.
Martin was there, right where he had been the day before, standing at the door of the business again.
Nevertheless, he was completely different. In addition to being clean-shaven and clothed in a military uniform, he had an air of dignity. When compared to the gloomy character who had been seen the day before, he was a shining example of optimism.
“There you are,” he informed me, as if he had been anticipating my arrival the entire time.
“What happened?” As I asked him, I made a gesture towards his clothing.
“I’m here to buy you some milk,” he said with a smile. “You gave me both of them yesterday.”
I questioned, “How?”
“I am not the same man that you encounter the day before. Because of your generosity, I was able to reclaim a portion of my life that I now believe to have been gone for good.
We sat on a bench, and from that vantage point, Martin’s story began to unravel. Martin was a member of the military who was struggling to readjust to civilian life and felt as though the world had abandoned him. He mentioned that my generosity touched something within him, serving as a reminder that compassion and empathy were still present in the world.
After I had driven away, he went to the Veterans Affairs Office in order to get assistance since he was motivated by this.
Martin said, “I’ve avoided the place for months,” and he was right. “I think I just couldn’t stand the thought of being back in such a volatile field, even though there’s no way I’d be sent out at my age.”
As soon as Martin arrived, he was greeted with open arms and promptly enrolled in a programme that would provide for his fundamental need.
In the future, I plan to collaborate with males who return. “The Office is experimenting with a new programme in which these men receive the necessary counselling before returning home in an effort to better adjust to their new environment.”
When I realised that I had even a small part to play in putting Martin back on his feet, I couldn’t believe it. When we went our own ways, I was holding a fresh carton of milk, and he had left me with a profound message about something.
“Just make a solemn vow that you will continue to spread kindness, Ciara. What you don’t realise is how powerful it is. Also, make sure that your children see it.
I am experiencing a surge of excitement as a result of the knowledge that Martin is now secure and cared for; he will be able to sleep soundly and will have access to food. I could not have asked for anything better than that.
