The Power of Kindness

      Michael sat down in the middle of the road and began to cry.  He didn’t cry because of his broken marriage; it had been broken a long time.  It had been five years since Evelyn had found out about his affair, and he claimed full responsibility.  He didn’t cry because he lost most of his worldly belongings; their worth amounted to little.  A few odds and ends were hardly the containers of his life story.  Oddly enough, he didn’t even cry because of the knowledge that he may never see his daughter again; it was probably in her best interest.  A broken-down wreck of a man is hardly the male role model a seven-year-old requires.  He cried because of the hope his world now lacked; the sparkle of expectation it had once held dissipated into nothing.  His life was now meaningless, a void that was filled only because he continued to emit breath.

         A car drove by, a monotonous activity repeated by most vehicles as they passed the dark, hunched figure on the side of the road.  Michael had learned many things over the past few weeks: the feeling of being completely alone despite the fact that you’re standing on a busy city street; the feeling of acute hunger that a person feels after having gone two full days without food; the knowledge that absolutely no one in the entire world would care if he died right at that moment; the bitter loss of hope that anything better was to come.

         Another car drove by, but this one slowed and then stopped. 
         “How do you feel about pancakes?”
         Michael looked over to find a woman staring at him from her driver’s side window, which remained mostly rolled up.  He could tell that she was scared, frightened that he was going to mug her, or worse.  But through all of that fear, he could see a steely determination that made him want to smile for the first time that he could remember.
         “I happen to like them very much, ma’am,” he replied, and waited patiently for her response.
         “There’s a diner about two miles ahead.  Go ahead and get in,” she instructed, and he walked slowly over to the passenger side of her station wagon, opened the door and sat down.
         “Put on your seatbelt.” 
         The fact that this woman was concerned for his safety in a situation like this made his mouth bloom into the smile that had been lurking since he laid eyes on her.  He did as he was told.
         
         “So tell me, Michael, how you got yourself into this predicament.”  Michael was surprised to see no condescension in the waitress’ eyes, but merely curiosity. 
         “Nothing substantially horrible,” he replied with a smirk.  “Just a whole bunch of little mistakes that amounted to a few really big ones.” 
         She poured him more coffee and took his empty plate that had only five minutes ago had held three pancakes, bacon, sausage, and scrambled eggs.
         “You can stay here till I get off my shift if you want,” she offered, and went to help another customer.  He glanced out the window at the sheets of rain pouring down, and said a silent thanks. 

         It was four a.m., and Katie’s shift was over.  They’d talked for hours, with her waitressing only slightly inhibiting their conversation.  As they walked side by side out the front doors, Michael felt that for once, he was understood by someone who actually cared to try. 
         “I guess we’re all just on the edge,” she said, and smiled at him.  “My eight-year-old is at home sleeping by himself because I can’t make the rent without working every shift I can take.”  She brushed her hair out of her face and turned to him.  “Here,” she said, and handed him her night’s worth of tips.
         “What are you doing?” he whispered.  “What about the rent?” 
         “You need it more than I do,” she replied simply, and walked to her car.  The engine started, and she pulled out of the parking lot and drove away.
         Michael looked down at the seventy four dollars in his hand.  The image of Katie’s face when she said she understood was emblazoned on Michael’s mind as he continued his walk down the highway shoulder.  Suddenly there was something to hope for, a shining light at the end of the tunnel, and he was walking toward it.