“Sure,” she said and with that pulled the wallet out of her purse and handed her $300.
The woman’s eyes were bigger than silver dollars at the sight of the money. ”May God richly bless you for this!!!”
Reggie smiled at the woman and walked away with a warm feeling inside. Silently she whispered to God, “That felt great, Father! I wish I could do stuff like that every day for the rest of my life!!”
Too keyed up to sleep or sit in a room watching TV, Regina decided to go for a walk and see the sights, whatever that might be. She had only traveled for a few blocks when she saw a couple walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street and they were both laughing and whispering to each other. Right there on the ground was a homeless couple all bundled up in their coats and huddling to get warm.
A wave of anger shot through Reggie as she realized that the couple went walking right past them while laughing at the same time. How cruel people can be, she thought and made a beeline across the street. Just as she got within hearing distance, Reggie heard the woman sniffling and knew she was crying.
“Don’t pay any attention to snobs like that!” she said practically spitting the words out of her mouth. The couple both sat up and stared at her with shocked expressions on their faces. Then it was her turn to be shocked. Now that they were not hunched over, Reggie could see that they had been sheltering a young girl of about 6 or 7 years old. Trying to keep her warm more than likely.
“Hi! My name is Reggie, do either of you speak English?”
“Yes, I do!”, the little girl answered her in the sweetest voice she had ever heard, she sounded like an angel. ”My name is Suzette and these are my parents Caroline and Robert.” The couple stared back at Suzette and spoke rapidly in German to her while gesturing towards Reggie.
“My parents would like to know what you are doing in Switzerland, do you live her or just touring?”
“Actually, this might sound a little crazy but I’m on a sort of mission from God. I think I’m standing right here at this very moment because I’m supposed to help you.” Reggie replied to the young girl but was looking at her parents as she spoke. She then reached down into her purse and withdrew the wallet from it. She opened it up with a silent prayer, “How much God?”
Reggie immediately felt more than she actually heard the amount of $1000, so she counted out 10 of the $100 bills and handed them to Suzette’s mother who was staring at her with tears streaming down her cheeks. Caroline jumped to her feet and began hugging Regina and thanking her profusely!
Then she could have sworn she heard a whisper in her ear saying, “Well done!”… to be continued
Teresa Marie 5/16/12 ©
- Free Write Friday; Time & Place Scenario – Dear God, What Now? – Part 3 (terri0729.wordpress.com)
- Free Write Friday; Time & Place Scenario – Dear God, What Now? – Part 1 (terri0729.wordpress.com)
- Free Write Friday; Time & Place Scenario – Dear God, What Now? – Part 2 (terri0729.wordpress.com)
* I wrote this poem back in 2008 after watching a program about the skyrocketing numbers of homeless in America. With so many families losing their houses, children sleeping in the streets and going to school with hope of a meal for the day, etc. I cried through the whole thing and then sat down and wrote this poem.
*image source: dreamworlds.ru
Here is your Free Write Friday Prompt:
Finish this line…
“One of the hardest/most important/best (<- your choice) lessons I have ever learned was…” Elaborate.
- Free Write Friday; Tell Me Their Story (magicinthebackyard.wordpress.com)
- Free Write Friday; Of Course We’ll Always Be Friends, You Know Too Much About Me (magicinthebackyard.wordpress.com)
This e-mail was so touching that I had to share it:
When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
Mouthpiece just above my head.
Now that I had an audience.
“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question.
“Nobody’s home but me,” I blubbered.
“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked.
“No,” I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”
“Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice.
After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for
help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.
She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please,” and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?”
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, “Information Please.”
“Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information Please.”
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
Idea how much you meant to me during that time?”
I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me.
Three months later I was back in Seattle . A different voice answered,
I asked for Sally.
“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.