A pastor
A wealthy businesswoman, donating to charity
A junkie
Walking down the same street
Passing an alley
A homeless man
Laying in the shadows
Injured, maybe dying
The pastor hears the moaning
Quickly strides past
“I’m busy.”
He thinks to justify not helping
The businesswoman hears
She quickens her pace
Her heels clicking rapidly on the pavement
“I give to charity
He should go to a shelter”
Cold, hard, but justified she thinks.
Hours pass
Night falls
The man in the alley
Falls unconscious
A young man
Addicted to drugs
Wanders past
Thinking only of his next fix
The money in his pocket heavy
A street light flickers on
Something in the corner of his eye catches his attention.
He stops
Looking closer he sees
The man in the alley
He knows that he’s not a good person
He’s done some things that he’s not proud of
But his mother raised him right
Help those who need
help
He looks at the wad of cash in his hand.
Enough for his next fix
Enough for a hospital
He wants his next fix so bad
But something makes him go into the alley
Into the shadows
He pulls the homeless man out of the shadows
His phone was dead
But his car was down the road
He hoisted the man
Over his shoulder
In the hospital
Nurses and orderlies shocked
This young junkie
Bringing a homeless man
Who was going to die
Into this place for help
Willingly using money
That was going to go to keeping
Him comfortable
Why would such a thing cross his mind?
Even leaving extra money
So that the man could buy himself a meal
He knew that even though didn’t want to
His selfishness wanting to take over
That he did the right thing
By helping the man in the alley.
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