The Raggy Man

Elaina carried the canvas bag slung over her shoulder. In it she carried the day old bread that she took twice a week over to the old mission.The old church was where the old priest fed the hungry and the homeless. She didn't have much, she and Juan usually had little more than beans and rice many nights to eat, but they were certainly much more fortunate then the sad, lonely men, women and sometimes children that stood in line each day just to halt their hunger pangs. She loved helping out where she could, and this was the one place where she felt something almost draw her. She supposed it was the feeling that the rest of her life was out of her control and in this way she felt she could do her part to help someone else just a bit and take her mind off of herself and the loneliness that seemed to eat her up from the inside out.

She entered through the heavy, wooden door that was scarred with years of wear and abuse. Elaina smiled a bit at the irony of the situation as she compared herself to the well used door. They were both worn and growing older by the minute she thought, but the old door still had a few years on her. She straightened her shoulders and dropped the bag full of bread onto the table in the small kitchen where an old white haired man worked over a huge silver pot that was emitting a heavenly aroma. She lightly brushed her hand across his stooped shoulder as she moved around him, and as she did so he straightened up and acknowledged her presence with a smile. Though he had lived many hard years and had seen many of life's sorrows, he had the youngest, kindest, most full of life eyes that she had ever seen.

He wished that he could find that bum and kick the old raggy man again, only this time harder.

Credit: Nadsej@stock.xchng.com

Copyright: Nadsej@stock.xchng.com