“Thank you, sunshine. God bless you.” The words repeated in my mind that whole night. It was in New York City, I was about eight years old. The night started when we were walking home from dinner. For those who don’t know New York City, it is always awake and lively, there are always lights and cars and people that constantly look busy. That’s probably why he stood out so much. He had dirty clothes as he sat on the side of the street, hands out begging for money. People passed without even looking at him, like he wasn’t anything important or just a small pile of dirt. As I passed him, I gave him a smile, and he looked up at me, with big glassy eyes. After I passed him, I was clutching my dad’s arm. I knew he deserved more than just a walk-by smile, so I tugged on my dad’s arm, and requested some money for the poor man.
By Camille Mohsenin
By Camille Mohsenin