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True Christmas Spirit!
> Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute
> shopping done. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the
> Christmas season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking
> lot as I was loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to
> buy. I noticed that I was missing a receipt that I might need later.
> So mumbling under my breath,I retraced my steps to the shopping centre
> entrance.
>
> As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a
> quiet sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of
> about 12 years old. He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just
> wearing a ragged flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's
> chill.
>
> Oddly enough, he was holding a fifty pound note in his hand. Thinking
> that he had gotten lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.
>
> He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He
> had three brothers and four sisters. His father had died when he was
> nine years old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full
> time jobs. She made very little to support her large family.
> Nevertheless, she had managed to skimp and save two hundred pounds to
> buy her children Christmas presents. The young boy had been dropped
> off, by his mother, on the way to her second job. He was to use the
> money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to
> take the bus home.
>
> He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed three of
> the fifty pound notes and disappeared into the night.
>
> "Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked.
> The boy said, "I did."
> "And nobody came to help you?" I wondered.
> The boy stared at the sidewalk and sadly shook his head.
> "How loud did you scream?" I inquired.
> The soft-spoken boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"
>
> I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
> for help.
>
>
>
> So I grabbed his other fifty and ran to my car
> shopping done. I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the
> Christmas season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking
> lot as I was loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to
> buy. I noticed that I was missing a receipt that I might need later.
> So mumbling under my breath,I retraced my steps to the shopping centre
> entrance.
>
> As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a
> quiet sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of
> about 12 years old. He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just
> wearing a ragged flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's
> chill.
>
> Oddly enough, he was holding a fifty pound note in his hand. Thinking
> that he had gotten lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong.
>
> He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He
> had three brothers and four sisters. His father had died when he was
> nine years old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full
> time jobs. She made very little to support her large family.
> Nevertheless, she had managed to skimp and save two hundred pounds to
> buy her children Christmas presents. The young boy had been dropped
> off, by his mother, on the way to her second job. He was to use the
> money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to
> take the bus home.
>
> He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed three of
> the fifty pound notes and disappeared into the night.
>
> "Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked.
> The boy said, "I did."
> "And nobody came to help you?" I wondered.
> The boy stared at the sidewalk and sadly shook his head.
> "How loud did you scream?" I inquired.
> The soft-spoken boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"
>
> I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry
> for help.
>
>
>
> So I grabbed his other fifty and ran to my car
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