I walked down the gloomy street with my face aimed straight at the ground, trying to ignore everything around me. I eyed the bits of asphalt shifting through the spider web of cracks that composed the mere semblance of a road. I could feel a myriad of eyes tracking my every move, though I dared not meet a single one of them. Quickening my pace, I became more and more conscious of the numerous alley cats who could only be wondering where their next scrap of life-giving sustenance would come from. A twisting, guilt-infused knot rapidly formed in the pit of my stomach as my concentration wavered and the utter despair of the landscape began to invade my thoughts.
“Just keep moving, don’t think about it” I almost screamed to myself. I managed to muster up my mental ramparts, relieving myself of the mental anguish in the bliss of ignorance. They held for a good two seconds before a wrecking ball smashed its way in front of my path, bring me to a complete halt as my mind became completely inundated with emotion. The little boy standing in front of me could not have been more than ten. His hair was a greasy, tangled mess of brown and his shirt seemed to have been tread on by a few thousand people. The boy, despite his light complexion, looked as though he had just emerged from several years buried in a coal mine and had not taken a bath since. In spite of all this, a blazing light shone from his eyes that was only matched in purity by the dimples of his enormous smile.
“Hello Mister,” he chirped as my knot instantly returned. “Would you be able to spare any change for me? I’m just looking to get a bit of food today before the night sets in.” I wrapped my jacket tight around my body as I noted the cool evening winds dance around my body. “I...I don’t think I have any at the moment,” I stammered as my eyes rushed to focus on the crumbled asphalt at my feet once again. “Aww, come on Mister,” the boy replied with a hint of disappointment creeping into his voice. “Anything would be a help.” By this point, I felt like a knife had been shoved up my abdomen by Mammon himself. My hand dove into my jacket pocket and returned with a few coins leftover from my lunch of calamari and sirloin. I dropped the change into his mud-caked palms and darted past as he stepped off to the side. As I neared the end of the road, I turned around and met those shining eyes once more. He raised a hand and waved as I turned and fled onto Oliver Street and to the warmth of my three room apartment.

That night, I could not succumb to the peace and tranquility of sleep. I lay in bed, staring up at the omnipresent darkness swirling about my head. I could have turned on the lights and dissipated the darkness for a time, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it would return as potent as ever. All I could think of was the boy, probably freezing and starving in the blackest crevices of the unforgiving city. “What if he died this very night?” I wondered for the 50th time that hour. What if I had only given him a respectable amount of money? What if I could have been the difference between life and death for the one boy? My phantasms ravaged me throughout the night, finally giving me a respite as the first rays of the sun began to creep through my window. I slowly sat up, feeling the pains of my restless night radiate throughout my body. I drifted into my morning routine, taking note of my bulging wallet as it slid into my pocket with moderate resistance. With a soft sigh, I gathered up my work papers and headed out for another day at the office.

As I headed down Oliver Street, I noticed the small road that I cut through last night was rapidly approaching. I normally stuck to the main roads that run through the city when going to and from work, but I recalled being very tired that previous night and just wanting to get home. I came to a stop at the mouth of the darkened street. Despite being well into the morning, the large buildings amassed in the center of the city casted long shadows, cloaking many of these smaller roads in near-perpetual darkness. I simply stood there, staring down the street, for several minutes before I finally gathered the courage to begin my journey on that shadowy road.

I was scared to see that young boy again, yet terrified that I would not. What would I do if I ran into him again? After some though, I vowed to help him and give that boy the money he would need to feed himself properly. Looking up from my thoughts, I saw another businessman of some sort who was also walking down this street a ways in front of me. A woman, sitting off to the side, had jumped up and placed an old, worn hand on the man’s forearm. “Help me,” she cried, her voice hoarse and pleading. “I just need a few more blankets for this bitter winter.” Much like the boy I met yesterday, she was dirty, skinny, and covered in rags. What she did not have was the boy’s eye or smile that inspired a weak sense of hope in me. Her eyes were dull and gray, and her mouth looked as though it had not felt a smile in decades. She was despair, sadness, a hope long lost to the world of reality.

The businessman yanked his arm away and sneered. “Why would I give you anything? Why would I give away my hard earned money away to people like you who would just squander it on some drugs or alcohol?” The skeletal woman simply looked away and retreated to her spot on the street, bringing her legs up against her chest in an attempt to keep warm. The businessman shot her another look of disdain before continuing down the road. Stunned by what I had just seen, I slowly gathered myself and approached the woman. She refused to look at me as I came up her, clearly ashamed of what had taken place. Without saying a word, I slid my arms out of my jacket sleeves and then removed forty dollars from my wallet. I knelt down beside her and she turned to stare directly into my eyes. Great sadness washed over me as I peered into that broken face. I attempted the best smile I could, although I doubt it was much, and placed the jacket and money down next to her. She never smiled as I rose and turned away, but as I continued along that street I did hear her faintly whisper, “thank you.”

I never saw the boy that day. I grew fearful of what might have become of him, yet I did not feel nearly as bad as I did the night before. I pictured his illuminating smile and felt a little better, happy knowing he would have liked how I helped out the woman on the street. Work that day was a blur. I spent a good portion of it staring at the white-wash walls, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. Coworkers clad in business suits and designer dresses rushed about constantly, moving through their daily lives. Their thoughts were dominated by the concerns of their cracked smartphone or their three year old computer that always took a whole minute to start up. Do they even realize what legitimate problems exist throughout the world, let alone a few blocks down the street?

After idly musing over a number of things I could do, one idea stuck out at me. It was simple, easy, and yet would help a large number of people. There was really no reason why I shouldn’t do it. I immediately gathered up my papers and my laptop and headed straight for the door. It was still early in the afternoon, well before I typically leave work, but in my mind there was nothing better for me to do that day. I walked several blocks down the street to the parking garage where I kept my car. I find myself noticing dozens of backstreets and alleyways, all probably filled with their own bright-eyed boys and freezing, old women simply looking for the necessities of life. After jumping into my $60,000 sports car filled with a few hundred features and mechanisms I would never use, I drove out to the nearest department store.

Just as the sun began to dip below the city skyline, I returned with a lighter wallet and a trunk stuffed full of bulging bags. Taking the giant heap in a makeshift basket of my outstretched arms, I started hobbling down the ramp and out onto the chilly twilight streets. I probably looked rather ridiculous carrying the massive pile around in my arms, but I could not care any less. I had a cause now, a mission to which I could dedicate my life without any reserve. Reflecting back on my life, I never really knew what I was doing. I just felt like an ordinary person and went through life by the expectations on society. I studied hard, when to a good college, and continued on to a successful corporate job. I was only just realizing that all of this meant nothing by itself. I had still lacked a purpose that was now developing at that very moment. I discovered that I could benefit society as a whole by taking what I had been dealt in life and giving it back to others.

I finally reached the street where I met that young boy. He was enormously inspirational with those brilliant eyes and innocent smile, and probably never even realized it. I walked part way down that street, drawing those stares filled with hunger, yet also touched with curiosity. I stopped half way down and dropped my payload in the middle of the desolate street, then reach down to fish out a twin-sized comforter. The street rustled as whispers spread throughout it. I could sense everyone’s gazed focusing on me with looks mixed of confusion and awe. I tore off the packaging and walked over to the nearest vagabond, an elderly man of steely white hair that continued all the way down his face to the tip of his unkempt beard. “Thank you, kind sir,” the man said as he slowly grasped the thick blanket from my outstretched arm. “You sir have a blessed soul inside you.” I found a warm smile creep across my face as the meaning of his words sunk in. “You’re welcome,” I replied as he reciprocated my euphoric grin.

I turned around to retrieve the other sheets and blankets balled up in all the shopping bags. A small crowd of people from the street nervously gathered around me, guided by the ecstatic calls of the elderly man. A potent concoction of sorrow and joy welled up inside me as the lepers of the city praised me for my gifts of kindness. The supply rapidly diminished and I promised the congregation that I would bring more back tomorrow. I eventually extricated myself from the group and began heading home. Despite all the joy I felt from helping the crowd of fellow humans, I still could not find that boy from yesterday. Looking off to the side however, I noticed the sad, frail woman that I had helped that morning. She sat there, wrapped in my old jacket, gazing at what had transpired. She shifted her focus to me and, with what was obviously a strained effort, managed to lift the corners of her mouth just a fraction of an inch. For her, I knew it was equivalent to the biggest smile in the world.

I never found that boy again, with his illuminating eyes and dazzling smile. I searched those streets for years, distributing food and blankets all along the way. It was only a small difference in the grand scheme of the world, but it was everything for those calloused souls that I helped. I tried countless times to enlist the help of my coworkers and fellow businessmen with some limited successes. Often times I felt that I would get these miniscule donations as a simple means of shutting me up, but I always thanked them for their generosity regardless. There were those however, who I manage to reach at a deeper level and would come join me on my various crusades. I later expanded my ideas throughout the nation, and then the world, winning awards and joining fancy dinners filled with millionaires and politicians who would fight with one another just to get a picture next to me. I would sigh at these events, knowing that I needed to take whatever help I could get in order to accomplish a mere fraction of my boundless ideas. While all this help was fleeting at best, all the inspiration I would ever need was in that one shining smile and those two hopeful eyes.