Walking to my car I noticed him. At first I thought he was friends with some people a few cars down. However, their stern Spanish words and his hasty retreat told me he did not know them.
Ignoring his timid, “Excuse me...” I quickly stuffed my bags in the car, hopped in and turned the ignition. Then I just sat there watching him fade into the darkness. This was a semi-rough section of Greenville Avenue here in Dallas and he couldn’t have been more than 13 years old. Based on the condition of his clothes and his less than persistent approach method, I believe he’s a novice at this game
I don’t know why I ignored him. I don’t even know what he was asking for. I assumed money, but he may only wanted to know the time. I never gave him the chance to ask...so I don’t know.
Driving away I felt guilty. I considered turning back to give him some money, but I had already turned, and Greenville can be hard to turn around on, and he may have walked back behind the buildings, and what if he has a gun or some other weapon, and I probably wouldn’t find him anyway...and...and...and...
As I drove home, my mental list of excuses became quite massive.
It’s been about a week since that happened and I can’t get him out of my head. I’ve driven down that section of Greenville several times since then and even though I don’t know if he’s black, white, green, purple or orange, I look for him. I don’t know, maybe I’m hopping to get a second chance.
Maybe it was his age. Maybe it’s my age. Maybe it’s the fact that I have a student in my class this year who’s teetering on the edge of homelessness. Whatever the case, for some reason this young boy looking for help, coupled with my uncaring reaction, has left a mark on me that won’t soon go away.
1 comment:
Hugh, I have had times like these that I have trouble forgetting. Because of your caring ways, it will stay with you awhile, but you will get other chances. This one may have gone wrong. My heart hurt with yours.
Love, Mom
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