Henry was the hardest of...
Illustration
Henry was the hardest of the hardened. Sister Angela had sought for six months to bring him into the shelter and start him in a drug and work rehab program. Nothing seemed to work. She had once given him a tour of the facility and showed him the refurbished sleeping quarters that would certainly be more comfortable than the alleys at night. A funding source had been secured, so that there would be money to pay for his vocational training. The drug counselors he was introduced to seemed friendly enough. But for six months, Henry stayed away and refused to enter the program. In the meantime, Sister Angela would find him on the coldest nights and just happen to have a sandwich and some fruit in her pocket to share with him. He often snarled in response, but he always took the food. "Why am I here alone like this?" she muttered to herself, shivering, glancing over her shoulder every now and then into the shadows. When the blizzard hit town, Sister Angela found him in his favorite alley and wrapped him up with one of her blankets. One day, Henry showed up at the door of the shelter and asked to speak with Sister Angela. "I'm ready to start your program, if you'll have me." "Why, of course, Henry. It's so good to see you. But, why now?" "Your fancy shelter and hyped-up programs didn't matter much to me. I just needed to know I mattered to someone." "Henry, you matter to me," Sister Angela said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I know now. You were with me out on the street. Your God must be pretty special for you to brave that."
-- Molldrem
-- Molldrem
