A Stranger’s Gift

I was in the living room as usual playing with some of my toys. The television was on but because dad was sleeping, the volume was very low.

There was a knock on the front door. There was little crime in New Orleans in the fifties so it was not uncommon for the front door to be unlocked or to open the door without  first asking who was there. Besides, it was always someone we knew, a neighbor or an acquaintance. Perhaps it was Mr. Schiro, the insurance agent who personally collected insurance premiums weekly from his customers. Or the person knocking could be the Community Coffee representative who delivered his product to homes. 

I opened the door only to find a stranger standing outside. He was tall and thin. His face was gaunt and the speckled stubble on his cheeks and chin matched what hair showed from beneath a soiled, beige baseball cap. His hands were stuck in the pockets of an obviously old and weathered windbreaker. His elbows were drawn in and his shoulders hunched upward in an attempt to better fend off the chilly breeze. 

His eyes caught my attention. Dark brown, they were set deep in their protective sockets and they seemed lifeless. They spoke of misery and want and hinted of a lifetime of pain. He looked pathetic and ravaged.

“Is your mother in son?”

I didn’t even bother to close the door nor did I invite him in from the cold. I ran quietly through the two bedrooms and into the kitchen. I was careful not to wake my dad from his midday nap.

“Mom, there’s a man at the door.”

“Who is he and what does he want, Billy?”

I hadn’t asked so I couldn’t tell her.

She followed me to the front room. The door and the stranger were exactly as I had left them. Mom studied the stranger. I detected a slight frown on her face but I didn’t think it was one of anger. I stood by her side, clutching her dress.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Maam, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m out of work. Been out of work for a long time. I’m broke and I’m hungry. Ain’t had nothin’ to eat in a couple of days. Can you spare some food?”