Self-written story loosely based on an event designed by psychologist Peter Favaro which I recently read.
Do enjoy, feedback and comments are welcomed :)
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Tristan was an ordinary 10 year old boy living down the road. By ordinary, he came from a loving family, went to church every Sunday, had a bunch of great friends, and pretty much had no problems a 10 year old shouldn't have.
In Tristan's quaint neighbourhood, there was an elderly woman who lived in a house up the street. Everyone called her "the witch."
Some people say she's really paranoid, calling the cops on kids all the time, and screaming out the window, even when there was nobody there. At night she kept her light on all the time, and sat looking out the window, staring into the distance.
For a couple of days the light had been off in the old lady's house. Some of the kids thought she was just dead in there, or gone in a wisp of smoke. They constantly jumped in front of her house and sang, "Ding dong, the witch is dead, the witch is dead," and laughed.
Tristan was never one to take part in making fun of the old lady. He always thought that the kids were plain mean, and was actually sad that she was gone, and wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong.
Although he was scared, Tristan knew this was what Jesus would have done. One day, gathering up all the courage his little body and spirit could hold, he went through the gate in the house and knocked on the door.
A voice called out from inside, "Go away and leave me alone!"
Tristan feebly replied, "I'd just like to know that you're OK in there."
Tristan could literally feel his heart beating in his throat. Yet, he stood there, motionless.
30 seconds passed.
Finally, the door opened. The old woman looked pale and dazed, to say the least. She seemed smaller than Tristan could have imagined, and very delicate. In the corner of her almost-bare living room there was a television set, and beside it was a large box of old rubber balls and toys that were left, or had accidentally fallen, on her lawn.
"Why have you come?" she asked Tristan. Tristan mentioned that he noticed that the light had gone out and thought she might be needing some help. She explained that she had no way to replace it. She was just too old to climb up and do it.
A short pause followed. "Would.... would you like me to do it?" Tristan asked gently.
At the sound of those kind words, her face softened and she whispered, "thank you." While Tristan was fixing the light, she sat down slowly on her old couch, and began to tell him a very sad story:
"A long time ago, I had a son, very much like you, so polite and so kind. He was a beautiful boy, as beautiful as a picture.
"My husband and I lived with our son not too far from the train station. I used to tell my little boy, "James, stay away from the tracks, or you'll get hurt." One day, my husband and James went out to play catch with an old football. The ball got away from James and rolled across the tracks.
While he was chasing it, his foot got wedged between two rails. His father ran to him and struggled to release it, but before they could, they were both struck by a train and killed. James' dad never let go of him."
With tears welling up in her eyes, the old lady concluded her tale, "I've been alone ever since."
Tristan, still too young to understand why the old lady was crying, finished fixing the light, and the lady gave him some milk and freshly-baked cookies. It almost looked as though she didn't want Tristan to leave.
Just before Tristan was about to head home, he turned around, gave the most sincere smile a 10 year old boy could give, and said, "Would you like someone to come around to help fix up your house?"
The old lady's face brightened. "You must be paid," she said. "I can't afford much, and you'll have to do a good job, but you can have all the cookies and brownies you can eat. I promise you that."
"God bless you, Ma'am" Tristan said as he skipped out of her house at dusk. "I'll see you tomorrow at noon!"
"God bless you too, my child" she said. As the old lady watched him disappear down the street, she looked up to the sky, and with tears streaming down her face, said her first prayer in 15 years.
Little did ordinary Tristan know, that he had been orchestrated by God to do a much kinder thing than he could have probably imagined at his age. He had just given this woman a reason to live.
With a fresh perspective,
Shaun
