I survived an abusive childhood filled with fear. In one particular instance I was so scared, that I thought the only option I had was to run away. I was 16.
So I did, not knowing where to go, I walked into the mission at our train station, a place that was a refuge for those homeless and stranded. If they had space, they allowed you to stay, for a night. There were no beds, just blankets and sleeping bags, a cup of hot tea and a slice of bread with jam, but for me it was a refuge, a safe place.
An older, homeless man, dirty from living on the street, with un-kept hair, and a rucksack that held everything he owned showed me warm smile, an ear, and patience. He made sure I was safe, and allowed me to cry, why he sat there, keeping me company.
To this day – I am 42 now – I will never forget the sweet kindness this man showed me. He gave me what he had, which was empathy, something I did not know from my home. A bigger present than anything I every received before.
I have no idea what happened to him. After that day, I never saw him again, but I am grateful for his presence, however fleeting, and always will be.
May you all find someone to share your space, when you are in need.
P.S. This post is a part of the Daily Prompt, with today’s subject being “Oasis”. This above named gentlemen gave me the Oasis – the safe place I needed at the moment. Thank you