Melissa Longo
11/6/13
MEMOIR
“ That poor man, let’s go help him Mom.”
Left, right,
left, left, right, left. I counted the pattern of my feet while I looked down at
my worn out black boots. My neck was craned and my brown hair dark as chocolate
fell in front of my face hiding my sky blue eyes. My skin had turn from a nice
warm glow to a ghost like pale. My cheeks were rosy. It was a chilly November afternoon.
My mom dragged me out of the house because for some reason she thought that it
would be much more fun to take a walk to the grocery store when it was at least
50 degrees outside then to be sitting in your nice heated house glued to the
TV, surfing the internet, wearing cozy socks, talking on the phone with your
bestfriend, all while stuffing the left over Halloween candy that you haven’t
consumed yet into your mouth. But as a 7 year old I didn’t have much of a choice.
The fall season was coming to an end. The last
of the colorful leaves started falling joining all the others that turned an
ugly shade of brown and had dried up. The life that was once in them had completely
died. My eyes started to tear and my hands became numb. I held on to my mother
as we tried to push against the brutal wind. My mom’s hair was pushed back and
her nose was pink. Through my blurry vision due to the tears I could see the
grocery store and a sigh of relief ran through my body. I thought of the warm
sun and remembered laying on a beach towel while my skin turned golden bronze. I
couldn’t wait for the warmth the supermarket would give. As a huge breeze came
towards our way, leaves flew in the air going up and down almost like a bird. I
felt something land on my head. I took the hand that was resting in my pocket
and reached up to my hood. I felt a thin material and realized it was one of
the leaves. I brought the leaf down to look at it. The leaf was one of the few
I had seen that was still a rich red and yellow color. My eyes danced as I
looked at the leaf. I looked at all the complex colors like the yellows and
oranges. I looked at the light brown
stem and all the branches that were sprouting out of it. The leaf reminded me
of a puzzle. The eye could only make out the image if all the pieces were put
together. As if it were only seconds from when I had first noticed the leaf it
was swept away. I hadn’t realized how
fast our pace had gotten but we came to a halt while we waited for the light. I
was so captivated by the leaves that. I hadn’t been hearing a call that was
repeating.
“Can someone
please help me.” I heard a faint voice.
I searched for the speaker. Finally I saw a man not old very old on the
opposite side of the street. He had silver hairs like one a wizard might have.
He had pale skin just like mine, you could see the veins that ran through him,
they were a deep blue and purple color. He was wrinkly and his eye lids drooped
over his panicked hazel eyes. His pointy triangular nose stuck far out. His
hand was clutched around a long plastic stick, his knuckles were white, his
fingers were long. I stared at the man and he stared at me. I would blink but
he wouldn’t. My eyes were slightly closed but his were wide and alert. Then I
put all those clues together and I realized it.
This man was blind.
“Can someone help me cross the street.” I could hear
a sense of urgency in his voice. He wore a hunter green coat and black dress
pants.
“Please I
need to get home.” In school our teachers always told us to help others when you could. People walked by
him quickly but quietly as if they didn’t want the man to hear them. There eyes
narrow like a cat. There hearts hollow as a balloon. Then I realized that I was
one of those by passers just staring at him not actually helping him.
“That poor man lets go help him mom.” The words fell
out of my mouth and I didn’t realize it but those were strong words that were
going to stick in my head forever.
When I was
really young I had a teacher named Ms. Garcia. She taught me at a very young
age to put others in need in front of your self. She also told me to always
help the people that needed help. Ms Garcia left the school 2 years ago. I
wonder she is doing now and how she was spending her life. Ms. Garcia didn’t
just teach me my ABC’s but also taught me how t be a better person.
“Don’t worry
Melissa we will.” So what I was cold, I bet this man would rather be cold then
be blind. I wasn’t cold anymore. I was angry that no one wanted to help him.
The light turned green and I walked fast. The brutal wind was blowing hard but
we were pushing harder. We reached the sidewalk where the man was still
standing. My mom approached him.
“Excuse me sir, would you like some help?” My mom
spoke soft and gentle not wanting to startle the man.
“Oh yes, thank you so much ma’am.” The man’s face
brighten up a little and I could tell by that one little action my mom and I made
the right decision to help him. My mom slowly reached for his bicepe and
tightened her grip. “Thank you so much.” The man kept repeating. I smiled.
My mom is a
strong woman. She is easy going but still strict. She makes me fell safe and
her protection is something I couldn’t live without. I just wanted to say to
the man that you are in good hands, my mom will help you.
“I’m Cathy.”
My mom had said. The crossing of the street turned into helping him walk down
the block. But I didn’t mind.
“I’m David.”
He answered quietly. He was open but he still was a little shy.
“And this is
my daughter Melissa.” I felt shy but I spoke a small hello.
“This means so
much to me.” He told us. “No one would help me and I was so hopeless so thank
you.”
“You’re Welcome!”
I erupted I started to get comfortable with the stranger. I felt so attached.
Questions were racing around in my mind. I couldn’t imagine how you have to
live your life like this. I could tell how grateful the man was and I wish the
walk didn’t have to end because I felt so good about my deed.
Finally he told us that he had it from here and he
didn’t need our help anymore. I was sorta disappointed because I had really
enjoyed talking to him. He said thank you and million more times. And we said
goodbye. Mom and I watched as he hobbled down the street his stick leading the
way. He was alone but I don’t think he was lonely. I smiled and watched the man
until he turned the corner. I would never see him again
I don’t know
what happened to David. He was so nice and humble and I could never get him out
of my mind. I wander what he was thinking when we said goodbye. And I always
think about that event when I help someone out because it makes me feel good.
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