JMstreet4

Put yourself into this short story. Seriously, this is about YOU, the reader. Actually, it is about all of us, but read this as if these are your thoughts

I am walking down the street. It is cold, oh so bitterly cold. I can’t wait to get inside where it will be warm and I will feel my toes once again. I quicken my pace, just to get to my destination a little sooner. As I hurriedly walk, I notice a man and a woman standing on the corner. The man is strangely dressed, as a matter of fact, both persons are. They have sandals on their feet, with no socks. They are both wearing a robe, or is it a gown, with a rope tied around their waists. The man, the younger of the two, is gentle with the older woman. She is probably his mother. They look at me with sadness in their eyes. And yet, a feeling of affection cascades over me. I turned my head for a brief moment in the direction of a loud noise and when I look back, they are no longer there. They have moved on, I guess.

As I move down the block, passing stores and row homes, I see an old man crouched along the wall, with a piece of cardboard shielding him from the cold wind. As I get closer, I see that the man’s face is the same as the man I saw standing on the corner. It couldn’t be!! This man was filthy, and his clothes were torn and dirty. I couldn’t help notice the smell of urine as I passed by him. I distinctly remember thinking disgustedly, “Somebody should help this guy”.

Recovering from that bit of unpleasantness, I quickened my gait. I couldn’t get home fast enough. As I turned the corner, two men were fighting with each other as a young woman stood idly by, watching them. I could tell that the disagreement was about the woman, but I don’t know what it was about. I looked back and muttered to myself, “This generation has gone crazy. This world is crazy. When are the politicians going to do something about it?”

Just then, breaking into my discussion with myself, a young girl, no more than fifteen, approached me and asked me for some money. She seemed normal enough and you could tell already that she was with child. I don’t like giving people money on the street. I fear that they might be using it for drugs or something like that. Her circumstances seemed unique, so I fumbled in my pockets for some loose change. I was about to hand it to her, when she said, “THAT won’t be enough for an abortion!” I hurried off, embarrassed and feeling guilty, like I needed a place to hide.

Now, in the warmth of my home, I sit down with a cup of coffee and start to browse through today’s newspaper. The headlines and cover stories are enough to make anyone cringe. They read like a bad dream: Countries angrily positioned at arms’ length with each other, Terrorists attacking people in the name of religion, Wall Street fraud, People shooting others. Money and the gain of it, seems to be behind so much evil. Even the Sports section which always spoke of man’s accomplishments, here now, I read about sports figures taking enhancing drugs, seeking illicit ways to excel on the sports field, shooting people and beating their wives. Again, I utter to myself, “The world is going to hell in a hand basket”.

There is so much horror and terror in this world. And yet the only normal, peaceful sight I had today was the man and woman standing on the corner, looking at me. The words of Jesus ring out loud and clear to all of us, to me. “Come, ye blessed of my Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me to drink; I was a stranger, and you took me in, naked, and you covered me: sick, and you visited me: I was in prison, and you came to me. When did we do this, Lord? And He shall say to them: Amen I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me.

I can, no longer, sit idly by watching the world from afar. If I am a Catholic Christian, then I must look at the world and consider my part in it, my responsibility to it. Yes, the terrorists, at this moment, are attacking other countries, but they have and will attack us, as well. I am the Somebody that should help this guy. I cannot rest all responsibility on the politicians of this world. I must have some active part, as well. Abortion IS wrong. How can I play a part in showing the world the beauty of, the sanctity of life? I hear of terroristic actions and I am grateful it doesn’t affect me, or my country. Too many guns, excessive craving for money, inordinate financial security, succeed at all costs regardless of the consequences, inappropriate movies, or conduct…these are all things I have an opinion of, I know right from wrong. When will I speak up about it?

The couple on the corner, they look at me and wonder when I will speak, when I will act, when I will show my love to my God. As long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me. This short story is about me……is about you.

Here are some other Posts that blend with this one. Continue the thread:

1) Where Do We Find Truth
2) Jesus Walked Down the Street
3) Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus
4) Masks, We Hide Behind

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