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"George" is a true story about a homeless gentleman I once knew. I've never seen "George" since then but I would like to know if he's okay. Everything is true in this story except George's name.


Submitted:Jul 3, 2012    Reads: 13    Comments: 6    Likes: 3   


I remember a couple of year's ago (more like eight million now). I lived with my three kids and my
ex in a house that was across the street from a set of railroad tracks and a field. It was getting
towards Winter and it was quite cold outside. Oregon weather, the way it is, it was not only cold
but, wet as well.
My ex was working at one of the home manufacturing places and was gone at least half the time.
One night he was gone I was working on the laundry pile in the house and doing some other
household chores.
I had sat his boots outside to air out (because they had this righteous smell to them.) I'd
forgotten they were there and fixed dinner and went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning to my ex's yelling and screaming because his boots were gone. I told
him not too worry about it I just put them on the porch. I went on the porch and they were gone!
He was so mad and we reported it to the police. After all, work boots were expensive and they were
his property.
The next day I was cleaning out my daughter's closet and found some old blankets. I washed them
and dried them. I got this fantastic idea and sat them out on the porch to dry. I had forgotten
they were there and went to sleep.
The next morning they were gone!
This was beginning to puzzle me and kind of anger me as well. If it was a joke I didn't like it.
It wasn't funny. If it wasn't a joke someone was stealing from me and I didn't like it. But, for
it to happen two nights in a row? That means my place was being watched and I had kids. I really
didn't like it.
The third day I was cooking dinner and had a great idea. I fixed my normal five plates for dinner.
One each for me and my ex and my kids. I fixed an extra plate and sat it outside on my front
porch with a knife,fork and a full glass of milk. I turned off all my outside lights, ate my
dinner and went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning and found an empty plate outside.The knife and fork sitting on
top of it. The empty glass of milk next to it.
Then my ex got really irritated. He said whom ever it was was going to have to get a job and that
I was just enabling him to do that. He called me an 'enabler' and told me if I kept doing it we
were going to be homeless soon, too.
He was pretty irritated.
Personally? I was delighted. Someone I could finally help. I knew who and why someone was
stealing off my front porch and I wasn't scared. Not anymore.
In fact, I was so not scared that I nicknamed the guy "George".
I explained to my ex I understood that "George" needed a job but in-between now and that time
"George" also needed to be fed and kept warm. We had extra. Why shouldn't we share when we had
extra and he had absolutely nothing? What if "George" had a family? What if we had a family and
we were homeless and this happened to us? How would he feel then?
Every night for over a month I left something out for "George". There was an extra blanket and
pillow that we weren't using anymore. Every evening I left something out for dinner and made sure
he got a glass of milk before he went to bed. (wherever that would be at). One night I left him
out some milk and cookies as a snack and I went to bed.
The next morning I woke up with a note on my front porch.
"Hey Lady,
I'd like to take the time to thank you for feeding me this last month. I lost my wife and son in
the fire that burn my apartment building down last month and things haven't been the same since.
My daughter is finally here from Washington to take me up there to live with her. I will be
mentioning to her your kind heart and ways.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Now look up"
I looked up towards the railroad tracks and saw a gentleman standing on the other side of the
tracks.
He waved at me. His clothes were torn and ragged. The boots and hat I recognized as my ex's.
I waved back until the image of him was lost.
I looked back down at the note. It was simply signed "George".
I smiled and closed the door.

A month or so later, my ex got laid off at his job and times were pretty rough. We didn't hardly
have food to put on the table.
I went to my mailbox to check the mail one morning and found quite a surprise. There was an
envelope marked "Lady" on the front of it.
I quickly opened it and read the note inside.
"Hey Lady,
I've found a job at a Hotel in Washington and have been residing here for about a month in an
apartment rent free just for managing the Hotel. They also give me food and a check. I'd like to
share some of that with you. Thanks so much for your help. I will never forget." and he signed it
"George".
Wrapped up inside the note was a 100 dollar bill.
I looked around and wiped the tear from my eye.
I smiled and closed the door.


This is a true story. I've never forgotten my homeless friend "George" and I believe he has never
forgotten me either.





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