The rain was absolutely lashing it down, you knowlike the heavens wanted to scrub every inch of the city clean. The street glistened under the lamplight, and tiny currents swept along the gutters, carrying away old leaves, cigarette butts, and days worth of grime. I was tucked up inside my car, the heater humming softly, keeping the cold at bay. There was mellow music playing on the radio, muffling the storm, making me feel as though I was wrapped up in my own little cocoon.
It was just another ordinary Wednesday evening, really, and I was heading home after a meeting that had gone far better than Id dared hope. On the passenger seat was a fat folder stuffed with paperwork and running through my mind was the usual list of things to do. That all disappeared in an instant, though, when, near the end of the high street, I spotted a tiny figurehunched over in the deluge.
She couldnt have been more than eight, Id guess. Her dark hair stuck to her cheeks, soaked through, and her little jacket looked so thin it might as well have been made from tissue. Clutched in her hands was a bunch of wilted flowers, wrapped in crumpled cling film. Her fabric shoes were utterly waterlogged.
I slowed down and, on a whim, pulled over by the kerb. I sat for a moment, just watching her. I couldve very easily kept driving, put my foot down like everyone else. But something about the way she hugged those sad flowers to her chestas if they were worth their weight in goldstopped me.
Switching off the engine, I opened my door. The cold wind hit me straight away, and the rain drummed on my head. I went over to her.
Excuse me, sir! she shouted up at me, struggling to be heard over the downpour. Would you like some flowers for your wife? Theyre lovelyIll give you a special price.
Her voice was wobbly and thin, though she tried hard to sound cheerful.
I shrugged off my coat and draped it over her shoulders. It swamped her, but at least it was warm.
Here you are, I said, handing her my umbrella as well, Youll catch your death otherwise.
She gazed up at me as though Id just given her the crown jewels.
No, sirmy mum says not to take things from strangers.
Shes absolutely right, I told her, Though this isnt a gift. Just a loan while youre working.
She hesitated a moment, but finally took the umbrella.
How many flowers have you got? I asked.
Twenty bunches, sir. At five quid a bunchbut I can let you have them for four. Theyre a bit worse for wear now, with the rain.
I got out my wallet and handed her eighty pounds.
Ill have the lot.
Her jaw actually droppedshe didnt say a word.
All of them? Butwhat will you do with so many flowers?
Give them away, I said, To everyone passing by. That way, everyones day gets a bit brighter.
A shy, uncertain smile spread across her face.
My mumll never believe this.
Where is your mum?
At homelooking after my little brother. Hes poorly. Thats why Im out here today, so she wouldnt have to be in the rain.
I felt a lump rise in my throat.
Keep the coat and the umbrella. Now, off you go. I bet your mums worried sick by now.
She hugged the money to her chest, took a few steps, and just before she rounded the corner, shouted out,
Thank you, sir! God bless you!
I watched her disappear, sheltered now under my big red umbrella. When I got back in the car, soaked through, I felt weirdly differenta mix of sadness, tenderness, and maybe a little bit of hope.
I switched the heater back on. Soon the car was filled with the scent of blooms, and as I began handing out bouquets to strangers in the rain, I couldnt help but feel something inside me had shifted. Its funny, isnt it? How small things sometimes make you see the world a bit differently.
THEY SENT ME TO A CARE HOME TO STEAL MY HOUSE, BUT THEY FORGOT THE COMPANY WHERE THEY WORKED WAS MINE TOO
