He folded his hands together, preyed for a miracle. But God only listen when there was nothing better to say.
By the time he figured out the right words, it was already too late.
No one can save a crumble world, not God, at least not right this instance.
Man I just woke up to some weird dreams!!On one end of the train, there was this man, obviously homeless or helpless, crying out for mercy to the citizens of New York. The man’s hair was shaggy and his torn jacket was stained with the proof of his suffering. As soon as the train started to move, he began his lengthy story of his misfortune. No one on the train had a doubt if the man was faking or not. It was unquestionable that there were pain rooted so deep in this man’s voice you couldn’t help but to think if he would last another day in this weather of New York.
On the other end, a six years old boy was clearly frighten. He knew about the homeless, but seeing one in such close proximity was something he never experienced so consciously before. The father sat next to the child, staring at the man without a concern. Yet, I could somehow sense the worry in his eyes. I imagine he was thinking about how he would explain this scene to his beloved son after they got home. As the homeless man started to drag his feet across the train, he tipped over his hat in hope someone would prove him that humanity and compassion still exist among us.
The father took out the change in his wallet and gave everything to this homeless man while his son stared uncomfortably at him. As soon as the homeless man has walked pass and exit out of the train, the father made sure his son put on his scarf and his hat like any loving father would. They exit on the next stop and I could not hear the conversation between the father and the son as I watched them walked out after the closing door.
The father, was the only one who gave the homeless man any money, out of thirty-two of us in the train.
