One rainy evening I went to fill up at the gas station A pre-teen boy approached my car with a thick hat pulled around his face. He asked me for money to help him and his mother stay in their hotel for an additional week.
He stated that if they did not come up with $25 they would be driven off that same evening.
Having worked in social services before, and being a little doubtful, I asked how come his mother hadn't found out social services for help. The boy said that they needed to remain in their hotel for one more week until his grandmother, who lived out of town, could take them in.
I gave the boy what I had— $5. He thanked me and continued to wander the parking lot asking for help. I got my gas and drove away. A separate time some weeks before, a boy asked me for money and I told him I didn't have any though I did. The doubt in me had won out.
Yet, I thought about it, felt ashamed at my doubt and went looking for the boy to give him a dollar. But it seemed that he had disappeared into thin air. "This time," I thought, "I'll do it differently."
I went to my bank and withdrew an additional $20, then I returned to the gas station. The boy was still there. I observed him immediately, shyly approaching strangers who walked past him without notice. I pulled up beside a pump and waved at the boy to come over. I handed him the $20 bill.
He reached through my car window and gave me a huge hug. His hug told me all I needed to know—that finally this kid could get out of the rain, the cold and the darkening skies and go inside where it was warm.
