An unexpected blessing

The man was back. His small box of eclectic belongings surrounding him.

I was instantly enraged. His foul oder hit me as soon as I reached the yard. His ears were covered with a ratty scarf, protecting them from the bitter cold of the December freeze

His head bobbed softly as if he were listening to music. As I got closer, I noticed the tears he silently shed.

He had a phone that was in the protective fold of his blanket wrapped lap

He didn't hear me initially.

So lost in what he was listening to.

I grabbed at the scarf, tugging the worn cloth from his head.

He jerked, anger flushing his bloodshot eyes as he glared up at me. His face instantly softened when he recognized me.

I felt a quick stab of guilt. He seemed to be connected to me.

I cursed my soft natured heart.

I had fed him a hot meal a few times, now he seemed to think I would allow him to remain in my vicinity.

I was a single woman who lived alone. I didn't know this old man. Nor did I want to.

I had enough problems of my own.

I was actually on my way to dialysis. The treatments did little but make me feel even more sluggish and sick.

I didn't have the patience to deal with him now.

"I told you, you can't stay here!"

" Why do you insist on coming back?"

He glanced sheepishly at the phone, the tears in his eyes continued to fall.

I hardened my heart against it.

I could not let every homeless person's life become my problem.

He reached his cold frail looking hand up to me, the phone exposed and still playing a video of some sort.

I pushed it back towards him, not bothering to see what he was trying desperately to show me.

Tears of frustration gathered in my eyes. I don't have time for this!

Suddenly I heard the sound of sirens. I had already called the police.

Unable to make him see that he couldn't stay here, I felt forced to have the authorities intervene.

He looked at me pleadingly as they came to take him away. He rushed to me and stuffed his phone into my cold-numbed hands.

He didn't resist as they put him in the car, his belongings forgotten by the corner of my home.

I rushed to my appointment. Stuffing the phone inside of my coat. If he came to get it, I could at least keep it for him.

I couldn't fathom what had led him to be homeless. I couldn't care about his life's pain and heartache because I needed to focus on me. My health.

I had no family left, my parents had passed long ago, leaving me alone in the world without an anchor of any kind.

I had no siblings. No aunt's or uncles. No one to care about what I was going through. I didn't have space to care for anyone else as I'd been on my own for years.

I'd worked my way up for years with no one. Grateful that I could finally live a prosperous life. Even if it was only momentarily. My illness had no cure except for a transplant, which without living relatives was almost impossible to remedy.

Sure, I had money now, though not nearly enough to place myself at the top of the donor's list.

My problem needed to be my only concern for the moment.

Even still, my heart smarted at thoughts of his sad face as the officers had led him away.

At the clinic, I settled down for the tedious dialysis process. I realized I'd left my phone in the car.

After glancing through the same magazines that adorned the table nearby, I remembered his phone in my pocket.

Ashamed at how I'd reacted I resisted the urge to look at it. At first. Eventually, I gave in to my curiosity.

He'd wanted to show me something on it anyway. So it wasn't an invasion of privacy.

As soon as I opened the phone it popped back up to what he'd been looking at.

It was a grainy video of a child's birthday. The little girl stood in front of an aged table. Her smile beaming at the person behind the screen.

Her sweater, though worn was clearly cared for. Her small gifts lay on the table near her equally small though lovingly made cake.

My heart contracted painfully as I took in the scene. The machines that I was hooked to blared alarmingly.

Attendants rushed to my aid

But I was now lost in memories.

The little girl...was me.

I remembered that day very well.

It was the last time I'd seen my biological family. Before I'd been adopted by my mom and dad.

They had been older and had no family of their own so I grew up with just them.

The memory of my actual family had just slipped from my mind as I grew.

Later that day, I called the station. Hoping they still had the guy in custody. Unfortunately they had released him. I felt a pain unknown to me prior to seeing that video.

I thought I was content with my new life. That all I'd needed had been my adopted parents.

But now, my heart yearned to reconnect with the family that had sacrificed so much just to make ends meet.

I remembered I had a brother. Much older than me, but very much an important part of my past.

The other videos and pictures on the phone led to more unlocked memories.

Memories of a life I'd completely blocked out. At the time, I thought the worst thing that could happen to a family was to be poor.

My family had been so. Very poor in terms of wealth. But immensely wealthy in love. They'd tearfully given me away so that I could have a better life.

And I had completely forgotten about them. I tried for days to find him. Hoping and praying that he was okay. That he would come back.

My health had taken a turn for the worst. I was in the hospital. No one would come to see me. I'd never kept in touch with friends and coworkers.

My days were long and drawn out.

Eventually, five days before Christmas I was finally able to go home.

He sat on the cold steps in front of my home. Blowing on his hands to warm them against the frigid weather.

With a lump in my throat and tears streaming from my eyes, I raced to him as fast as my ill body could muster.

He stood, his smile knowing and welcoming. We hugged tightly.

All the pain and loneliness vanishing as he held me in a soothing embrace.

We both spoke, unable to talk fast enough to get clarity of the situation. I had a family!

He wasn't even actually homeless. He had found out where I was and left everything and everyone behind to come get me.

He'd run into some bad luck and ended up without shelter. He could have just returned home, but he'd been determined to find and reconnect with me.

That Christmas I rejoined my family. And for the first time, in quite a while; I felt what having a family was like.

I thank God every day for unexpected blessings.

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