|Easter Tribute to Godspenman (standard:Inspirational stories, 938 words)|
|Author: Cyrano||Added: Apr 02 2012||Views/Reads: 1135/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A thank you for so many inspirational stories from your pen!|
I can see the line coming around the corner of Union Square from where it starts; the front door at Macy's. At the front of the line I can make out one familiar face; that of a man sat in a wheel chair, well known in the Square, an ex-Vietnam veteran, now a street vagrant often seen begging for money. He sits in his chair most days holding up a sign: ‘Vietnam Vet, homeless, jobless, legless.' He has his legs but he might as well not for all the use they are. I spoke to him one time, a man caught up in a helicopter crash while being pulled out of Khe Sanh, paralyzed from the waist down and using heroine for pain. San Francisco, like any city has its drug problems, and yet today we still deny people in the most fearful pain the most effective pain killers, help and Opium. He sits at the head of a line with his sign, people waiting for the store to open advertising a shoe sale. One day only, 50% off the lowest marked price. With luck I can get the pair I've had my eye on for a week now, regularly $140, now with a chance to get them for fifty bucks! It's a chilly morning, the early sun periodically appearing from behind tall buildings. If I could move up just fifty people I would be stood in a crack of brilliant sunshine. It's still fifteen minutes to opening. People are anticipating the opening, and shuffle forward. Ten yards more and I'll be bathed in sunshine. I'm seldom comfortable talking with strangers, but the guy standing beside me now, as anxious I think to get into the sunshine, cheerfully offers me a ‘good morning' with a smile to go along with its cheerfulness. He goes on to tell me He's waiting to get some new sandals. “Look at these,” He says, holding up one sandaled foot. “I haven't had a new pair in two thousand years!” I laugh at the joke. That said, looking at them, I could see quite plainly there was every possibility, looking at their condition, they are indeed two thousand years old, and I smile to myself. Ten minutes to opening and the line squeezes up some more. Nearly there, another five yards and the warmth will be instantaneous. People are pushing now, we are all leaning on each other, eagerly awaiting the sudden rush. I look at the guy standing next to me, and say: “Have you ever seen something like this?” “Not since my crucifixion, Kelly.” I've always loved people who can come out with funny one liners. I turn to look at the man responsible for my laughter. He has the face of an angel. I don't know why but I suddenly felt I was standing in sunshine. “It wasn't that funny, Kelly, it hurt like hell!” Just when you think your laughter cannot become more, it does. It becomes an ache, a stomach turning ache that forces tears to your eyes, and you want it to stop, but it won't. It just keeps finding a way to hurt more. I want to cry. I want to ask for help. “Man, you should be a stand-up comic. Brilliant!” I tell Him. “Thanks, you've done some good things too. I've been watching your act.” I don't look at Him, feeling suddenly afraid. “You've got to forget the bad and do some good, okay, you're not finished, you have a chance, people believe in you, but it doesn't get any easier, just make sure you tell people you love them.” I want to look at Him but cannot, so I just listen. I'm in shade but feel the warmth of love surrounding me. Across the road I see a man holding up a sign: ‘No sob story, no work, just need help.' I look down at my old shoes, still reasonable and only two years old. I leave the line and cross the road, walking up to the guy with his sign and put my fifty dollar shoe money into his hand. I'm still chuckling to myself at the man's funny one liner as I cross the street heading for my car. I'm amazed to see the man's face, the one I recognize from the wheelchair, with many people standing around him, weeping as he staggers, walks, and staggers a little more with each step gaining in strength and many people coming to gather and stand near him and they are amazed. On the man's feet, a two thousand year old pair of sandals. People in the street are crying and staring at this man. I look toward the corner of Union Square just in time to see a Man, wearing a new pair of Timberland sandals, and smiling a smile that shines its kindliness in a world that has a lot of ugliness. He raises his arm and as he does so I find myself standing in a crack of sunshine. I won't be in Union Square for Easter Sunday but if my Friend is I hope there is a long line of people waiting to hear what He has to say. His one liners are brilliant. "For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Happy Easter, reader, think kindly of those who do not have. Thank you for what you are to me, for all the love, for all the forgiveness and understanding when I've been clumsy or thoughtless. We make our own miracles. Tweet
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Cyrano has 94 active stories on this site.
Profile for Cyrano, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.