UnfilteredJoy

Wool Socks

He was cold and badly crippled as he leaned over his wheelchair, dirty hand jutting out a sign.

 

Feeling horrible, with not even an apple to share, I lowered the window of my heated car.

 

“What do you need?”

 

It was a sincere question, and his answer humbled me to my core.

 

“Honestly…socks and underwear.”

 

Me: “Do you wear boxers?”

 

His brown eyes soft, “Yes, waist size 32”.

 

It was such a raw human moment. Something about him knowing his waist size shook me.

 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I vowed as the light turned green.

 

“I’ll try to be here, but it’s really hard to get this corner spot…” His voice was overpowered by an impatient honk behind me.

 

I sped to our spot the next morning with two bundles of wool socks, fleece pants, and a pack of boxers…Size 32.

 

Disappointed to see a different beggar on the corner, I called from my window, “I have a pair of warm socks”.

 

The ragged man hopped over. His whole face lit up as I gifted the thick socks.


“That works,” he grinned at me.

 

The next two weeks, while I looked each day for my friend (saving his bag protectively on my passenger seat), I handed out wool socks to weary souls.

 

FINALLY, today I spotted his disabled frame in my review mirror as I turned on the freeway. Too late to turn around, I rushed to the next exit and circled back.

 

A clear mission before me, I ditched my car and ran to catch up with a man determined to push his wheelchair forward with his one working foot.

 

“Excuse me!!” I yelled out, but the frantic traffic swallowed my words.

 

I continued to sprint until I was able to stand in front of him.

 

His eyes wide with shock, me puffing for breath, I struggled to explain.

 

“We met…a couple weeks ago…and you mentioned you needed socks and underwear.”

 

The man’s eyes lit up with recognition.

 

“Hi, I’m Joy,” I offered.

 

“I’m Allen.”

 

“Well anyways, I’ve been searching for you because I bought you this…”

 

I plunked the plastic bag in his lap, and Allen stared in bewilderment at the items he had wished for.

 

Finally, he looked at me. Light flooded his face and with a raspy voice he whispered, “Merry Christmas!”

 

This season may our homes be filled with crackling fires and hopeful hearts, and may we share a bit of our bounty with a shivering soul on the corner.