The store was empty. The saleswoman, Emily, standing behind the counter, glanced briefly out the window. The same scene again! A homeless man was rummaging through the large garbage bins. The woman sighed quietly and began arranging goods on the shelf. She turned away not because it was repulsive, but simply to avoid trouble with the owner.
It was a futile trick, as the store was equipped with cameras. If the owner reviewed the footage, a reprimand would follow immediately. He was a strict and principled man. More than once, he had warned her to chase the homeless away from the bins without hesitation. That’s why Emily pretended not to notice anything. Maybe it would blow over.
During the day, she rarely looked out the window—too busy. There were plenty of customers. But at night, when she had free time, she often gazed through the window that overlooked the gas station. There were few cars at that hour, but the homeless man showed up regularly. She felt sorry for him; after all, he was human. Perhaps life hadn’t turned out well for him through no fault of his own. Emily had noticed more than once how he even picked up scattered trash and put it in the right place. That earned her respect. And she had never seen him drunk. Other homeless people, as soon as they begged a few coins, would spend them on alcohol. But not this one. He was an unusual sort of homeless man.
Emily’s life wasn’t easy either, though she had a roof over her head. That’s why she sympathized with the homeless man and even occasionally left food for him. If a customer damaged a loaf of bread’s packaging, she’d toss it in the trash for him to pick up. She herself had two children to care for, living paycheck to paycheck, but she could see he had it even harder. His gaunt appearance wasn’t hidden even by the oversized, tattered jacket he wore.
The young woman often requested the night shift. That way, she could manage both her children and household chores. The downside was she barely slept, and constant fatigue wore her down. She was lucky to have landed the job as a saleswoman in the store. She worked diligently, followed the rules, and tried to avoid fines or reprimands.
To be fair, the job wasn’t too demanding. Sometimes at night, she could even catch an hour’s nap. A bell on the store’s door would alert her if needed. After midnight, there were rarely more than a handful of customers.
Part of her duties included sorting and taking out the trash. A lot of plastic waste came from the cafeteria inside the store. All the garbage had to be packed up and carried to the bins. Every single day.
This work schedule led to the homeless man gradually starting to help her. In proud silence, he took the heavy bags from her hands, carried them to the bins, and helped sort the trash. With his large hands, he crushed plates and cans, compacted them, and neatly packed them into bags. Emily didn’t speak either, but she looked at her helper with gratitude.
Like most people, she associated the homeless with danger. Plus, she feared the owner. He was a principled and strict man. If he gave an order not to let the homeless near the bins, it had to be followed without question. Otherwise, she could lose her job. And surviving on meager child benefits wouldn’t last long. Still, every now and then, she allowed herself to treat her children to toys or sweets.
That day, Emily was in such a hurry that she didn’t notice the homeless man approaching. She was dragging a heavy bag to the bin, oblivious to the slipping store cap on her forehead.
— Miss, wait, — someone called out to her. Emily stopped, startled. It was her familiar acquaintance running toward her. — Don’t lift it, I’ll help.
That’s how their communication began. Emily felt calmer somehow. The nameless homeless man turned into a person. The stranger turned out to be a pleasant young man with a velvety voice and an unusual name.
— Victor, — he smiled broadly and instinctively extended his hand, then quickly tucked it back into his pocket.
— Is that what they call you around here? — Emily smiled and offered her right hand in return.
The man looked embarrassed and glanced at his hands. Then he quickly wiped them on his dirty black coat and extended one to her again.
— Victor—that’s what’s written in my passport. My parents chose it. They were religious, named me after the church name ‘Victor,’ from the Latin for ‘conqueror.’ They thought I’d become someone important, but, well, — the man waved his hand, — I turned out to be a nobody. He lowered his head and began silently sorting the trash as usual.
— Emily, — the young woman introduced herself, smiling, and joined him in sorting. — For some reason, your name reminds me of a character from a classic novel.
From that day, they exchanged a few words. Casual questions like: “What’s new?” or “How’s the weather?”
— It’s really cold today, — Emily noted one day as Victor, as usual, helped carry the trash bags.
— No big deal, it’ll keep us young longer, — the homeless man said cheerfully, rubbing his nose and cheeks, red from the cold.
Emily darted into the store and brought him a steaming cup of fragrant coffee. The homeless man took the cup carefully, as if it were a priceless antique, and inhaled the aroma with delight.
— Wow! I haven’t had anything like this in ages, — he said, closing his eyes in anticipation of the pleasure.
Emily felt awkward. She sometimes complained about her fate: widowed young, raising two children alone, always short on money. She’d been saving for a washing machine for five years. How she wished her kids could have nice toys and new clothes! She’d long forgotten about herself—her last haircut was a year ago, and her only “travels” were moving apartments.
But seeing how a simple cup of hot coffee brought joy made her perspective shift. It was heartwarming to see the man always cheerful and optimistic.
— Why don’t you wear a hat? — she asked.
— Your presence, Emily, turns all of life’s downsides into upsides, — he replied to her comment. — As for the hat—I lost it. I’ll have to find a new one.
— How could you lose it? — the saleswoman asked, genuinely surprised.
— Honestly, I pawned it, — Victor admitted. — I was hungry, and I had no cash. The pawnshop took it for fifty bucks, with a hundred to buy it back. But I’d rather buy a new one at a thrift store for fifty. Nowhere to wash it anyway. That’s the kind of homeless tricks we pull.
He shared the tricks of his life so seriously that Emily didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Then she pulled a handful of coins from her pocket and offered them to Victor. He firmly pushed her hand away.
— No, Emily, please, — he said, embarrassed.
— I’m investing in a new hat, — she smiled. — You can’t go around in this cold without one; your brain will freeze. But the homeless man refused the money for the hat. He turned out to be principled.
Gradually, day by day, Emily grew accustomed to her helper. He wouldn’t let her lift heavy things, and their chats lifted her mood. She stopped fearing the owner, who hadn’t visited at night in a while. She and Victor agreed: “If the owner’s car is parked at the store, slip away from the gas station quickly.”
Over the weekend, she did a deep clean at home and came across her late husband’s things. They’d been married for three years, but their happiness was short-lived. He didn’t make it to the hospital in the ambulance, dying of a heart attack on the way. Since then, Emily had raised their children alone. Both she and her late husband had grown up in foster care, with no parents or relatives.
She hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw out his clothes, but now she thought of the homeless man. She found a warm scarf, a winter hat, and a sweater, packed them in a bag to give to Victor at their next meeting.
All night she looked out the window, but Victor didn’t show up. She waited another day, then grew worried. This had never happened before. He was as regular as clockwork at the bins.
She tried not to assume she’d done something wrong. Maybe he was offended or tired of helping for the spare change she gave him out of pity. But she was already stretching her modest budget as far as it would go.
Then she thought he might have found another spot or was coming during the day shift when there were more customers. Maybe the cold made it hard for him to get there. She hadn’t even asked where he stayed. “What if something bad happened?” she worried.
Emily asked her colleagues on the day shift, but they hadn’t seen him either. That evening, after more fruitless inquiries, she passed by the gas station and ran into a familiar driver.
— Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t look yourself, — he asked with concern, noticing her sad expression. — Looking for someone? Or just getting some fresh air?
— Everything’s fine. I just wanted to give some old clothes to a homeless guy. He used to hang around here all the time, but now he’s gone.
— Leave them by the bins; someone will take them, — the driver suggested. — Or bring them to the bridge; a lot of them live there. There was a fight recently. Heard one guy got beaten up by a group. They say it’s not just fights down there—sometimes there’s even knife trouble. Where’s the police when you need them?
Emily couldn’t wait any longer. She went to the bridge and found Victor. He was a terrible sight: his face covered in bruises, shivering with fever, lying on the snow wrapped in a tattered quilted blanket.
She ran to the driver and persuaded him to take the poor man to the hospital. Thankfully, he was a decent guy and didn’t mind the risk of a messy car. They got Victor to the hospital, already unconscious. A little longer, and it could have been a tragedy. The doctor told Emily she’d found him just in time. When asked, “Who is he to you?” she mumbled, “Just someone I know; he hung around our store.”
The doctors’ diagnosis was grim: a pre-stroke condition. On top of being badly beaten, he’d caught double pneumonia from the cold. They feared his kidneys were damaged, but thankfully, they were spared.
Without a second thought, Emily took the money she’d saved for the washing machine. She’d manage without it. She paid for tests, a full examination, and medications. She couldn’t abandon someone in need.
She knew the hospital wouldn’t treat a homeless man for free, especially without insurance or money. Did that mean he should just die? She realized no one else would help him.
She fought tooth and nail to sort out his insurance and ensured the hospital didn’t charge him for his stay. But as soon as he was slightly better, they discharged him, saying, “Finish recovering on your own.”
Emily visited him only once. Then her friend went on vacation, and she had no one to watch her kids. She left her phone number with the doctor in case anything was needed. On discharge day, she sent her late husband’s clothes with a nurse and waited outside. Patients and staff came and went, but no sign of Victor.
Oh, God! She only recognized him by the familiar clothes. A neatly dressed, handsome man hurried toward her, barely resembling the homeless man from before.
— I’m so grateful to you from the bottom of my heart! — Victor looked at the young woman with awe. — I’ll thank you forever!
— Let’s celebrate your recovery, — Emily blurted out, though she hadn’t planned it. It suddenly felt wrong to leave him on the street right after the hospital. — I just need to pick up my kids—they’re home alone.
She thought she’d quickly run home and back. After a café, she invited the homeless man to stay with them for a while. He didn’t resist much and agreed readily, thanking her and promising not to overstay. He’d look for work and move out soon.
Emily lived with her kids in a small two-bedroom apartment. The rooms were tiny, and with furniture, there was barely space to move. Her son, James, was five, and her daughter, Lily, was six. The kids were noisy and overly energetic. They didn’t let their new “uncle” get bored, but Victor didn’t complain. He played with them and helped Emily with chores, not too proud to peel potatoes or cook soup if needed.
Victor was over forty. His life had been struck by catastrophe. He’d been married for love, working as a chief accountant at a company. Then everything collapsed like a house of cards. His wife cheated and demanded a divorce. A prenup left the two-story house, car, and all their assets to her. Everything he’d earned honestly was gone. To top it off, her lover was his boss, who fired him immediately. He was left with nothing.
His happy life shattered. Not only did his wife betray him, but close friends and colleagues turned their backs. Disillusioned, he spiraled downward, losing the will to live. Meeting Emily and her selfless act restored his hope. He hadn’t believed fate could bring such an encounter. He’d given up on hope.
For this kind woman, he decided to fight for his future. After a year of homelessness, he felt uncertain but pulled himself together. With Emily’s help, he got clothes and started attending job interviews.
Across from their apartment lived a neighbor, Margaret, a spiteful woman always unhappy with the world. She constantly nitpicked at Emily: her kids didn’t greet her, or she didn’t pay them enough attention. No one in the building liked her—she was a quarrelsome gossip.
Margaret got curious about who was staying with Emily. She assumed it was a lover, then learned he’d been homeless. People get bored and meddle in others’ lives, spreading rumors. They don’t see their own flaws but notice everyone else’s.
Soon, Margaret stirred up trouble, and a police officer, along with child services, showed up. They inspected the apartment for a long time, spoke with Emily and her tenant, and threatened to take the kids, claiming the living conditions weren’t ideal. They also pointed out the “huge issue” of living with a former homeless man.
But there wasn’t much to fault. The apartment was clean, food was prepared, and the kids were happy, not at all like neglected orphans. The authorities left empty-handed, finding no solid reason to take the children.
One evening, the family gathered around the dining table.
— Will you marry me? — Victor’s words caught Emily off guard, and she choked. — I’ve come to love your kids and want to be a real father to them. I’ll soon have a job. I’m a good specialist and know my trade. You won’t have to work nights or haul trash anymore.
Emily was overjoyed. She’d known for a while that she was in love but hesitated, unsure of his feelings. She worried he might be proposing to appease child services or secure a place to stay.
— Don’t think I’m after something, — he said, defending himself. — You’re like a light in the window to me. I fell in love with you long ago but was too scared to approach. Who’d want an unwashed homeless guy with no home or steady income? — he looked at her shyly.
Emily blushed. Not only had she heard his confession of love, but she realized her kindness had brought him back to life. Only now did he admit that after meeting her, he’d started saving for a decent suit to land a job. But his homeless peers stole the money and beat him brutally. Such were the harsh rules of their world.
It had been a long time since anyone looked at her with such love, and Emily agreed to marry him. They applied at the registry office and had a quiet wedding. Victor landed a good job in his field, and the family soon moved to a spacious rented house, saving up for their own.
The kids accepted him as their real father, calling him Dad. He later adopted them both. He doted on his wife, practically carrying her in his arms. Seven months later, Emily went on maternity leave, expecting another child. The family lived harmoniously, in love and understanding.
For their first anniversary, they planned a lively family celebration. They set a festive table and decorated the hallway with colorful balloons. The kids danced and played to loud music. Naturally, some neighbors were bothered by the noise and called the police.
By chance, the same officer who’d visited before arrived. He was stunned to see the family. Only a year and a half had passed since their last meeting in the cramped, modest apartment. Now, one look showed a family living in love and comfort.
That chance encounter changed the lives of Emily, her children, and the former homeless man. The officer sincerely wished them happiness and went on with his duties, genuinely happy for the new family.
Sometimes life feels meaningless, but that’s no reason to give up or be indifferent to yourself or others. You must cherish every moment fate offers. Seeing lives change before your eyes inspires kindness. You have to believe that as long as we’re alive, it’s never too late to start anew.
0 comments