It all started with a nativity scene in a department store. It was about six week to Christmas and the scene was set up in the stationery department. Amidst the stacks of paper and pens there was a small stage upon which the scene was set. The staff had spent many evenings making the figures and painting them by hand. It was a source of great pride. People were startled at how accomplished the scene was. Beside the scene was a collection jar where people could donate money to help starving children in a small state in Africa. A sign nearby gave some shocking statistics about poverty, which, if read carefully, would leave even the most emotionally stable person upset. People who read the sign gave generously and left the stall feeling happy with themselves. Some gave large sums because they thought it would show their high status, but the most touching of donations was one of the smallest.
The department store was very close to the train station where the homeless would while away their days by pestering people for change and consuming cheap alcohol as their staple diet. Often they would lie stationary, drunk as lords, as commuters passed by, their faces sour with disgust. Yong boys would dare each other to stamp on one of the motionless bodies to see if it was dead. The story of the nativity scene soon spread in the small town and it came to the attention of a homeless man named Jack. He had overheard two men talking about the display and decided to take a look. He heaved himself up from the cold floor and staggered to the store. It was a cold day and his stale breath stained the air with clouds of mist. He made his way to the stationery department and gazed in awe at the beautiful static scene. If he had taken a stab at creating such a scene perhaps his life would have been better. He moved his eyes to the nearby sign. As he read, tears welled in his eyes. He had become homeless by gambling with high stakes until he had lost everything. A terrible guilt spread through him until he stood in tears. These poor children had nothing, whereas he had frittered away all he had for nothing. Jack reached into his pocket and felt his worldly riches, it was less than the price of a meal and he needed it for that week. Nevertheless, he gave it all.
The department store was very close to the train station where the homeless would while away their days by pestering people for change and consuming cheap alcohol as their staple diet. Often they would lie stationary, drunk as lords, as commuters passed by, their faces sour with disgust. Yong boys would dare each other to stamp on one of the motionless bodies to see if it was dead. The story of the nativity scene soon spread in the small town and it came to the attention of a homeless man named Jack. He had overheard two men talking about the display and decided to take a look. He heaved himself up from the cold floor and staggered to the store. It was a cold day and his stale breath stained the air with clouds of mist. He made his way to the stationery department and gazed in awe at the beautiful static scene. If he had taken a stab at creating such a scene perhaps his life would have been better. He moved his eyes to the nearby sign. As he read, tears welled in his eyes. He had become homeless by gambling with high stakes until he had lost everything. A terrible guilt spread through him until he stood in tears. These poor children had nothing, whereas he had frittered away all he had for nothing. Jack reached into his pocket and felt his worldly riches, it was less than the price of a meal and he needed it for that week. Nevertheless, he gave it all.