One morning I went for a run. Nothing special. Close to 9 am. The wind's rustles didn't dent my step, although that had more to do with me being surrounded by buildings than anything else.
I was close to turning a corner that would lead me closer to the park, when some kids popped up from a side alley.
"Excuse me, Sir. Would you like to..." A slightly chubby boy of about 14, wearing white clothes with logos from well-known brands, said that as he let me know that he had a white piece of paper with the words "Donation" engraved on it.
"Sorry. I'm already donating." I said as I nonchalantly went past them. That was true. But not to their cause.
After I turned the corner, I heard something. Some guffaws and keys being banged against another metallic object. I looked behind. There was this kid, a mate of the previous, chasing me with the same piece of paper, going at it with full throttle, even though I wasn't going fast. I started smiling.
I slowed down, enough to have him reach me and not be out of breath.
"Would you like to donate?"
"I like what you're doing, but I can't. I'm not making enough to do so. Sorry about that." It was the truth.
He stopped afterward, while I increased my pace. Sometimes you can't help people, as much as you want to. I appreciated his approach. I think he'll go far.
No comments:
Post a Comment