Young Writers Society

She saw him every day as she walked to work. It was as if he never moved, though she knew it wasn't true. He had to have gotten the cardboard for his little sign somewhere, the sign which was covered with chicken scratch, barely legible. It made her heart break just a little more each day as she saw his leathery, wrinkled face curl up into a smile at anyone who bothered to stop and drop a coin or two into his mason jar. She didn't change her route, however, and made a point of dropping a few quarters in the man's palm and saying hello. She thought it was the least she could do, after all. He was just a lonely old man. He could've been her grandfather.

Every time he saw her he plastered a large smile on his face, showing his toothless gums. This, too, made her heart sing out in complete despair. She never did stop completely though, for she knew she was apt to do rash things, such as offer old homeless men a home. She barely made enough money to keep her apartment. Still, she could not help but offer her change. She had a good heart.

Though her will was breaknig, day by day, until finally she stopped by the homeless shelter after work. If she couldn't give the old man her home, she would atleast try and give him a warm bed to sleep in. Imagine her surprise when she saw him there, handing the woman behind the counter his little mason jar.

She realized something then. This man, who had nothing, was giving everything he had away for someone else. He was letting a little girl write her story, starting with a little spare change. He was allowing a little homeless boy to maybe someday live out his dream as an astronaut. He was giving the pregnant teenage runaway a place to call home.

He was, in all aspects, writing without ink. He was weaving a tale so heartwrenching she could not help but allow a few tears to fall down her cheeks.

He didn't need ink or paper to write his story, only a good heart and a willing ear.

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This was a short little story I wrote when I was ten or eleven. I found it again, and I liked it so much I decided to give it a rewrite. It actually made me tear up a little.