The Stray

Karen cleaned the rain off her glasses before she turned the corner. It was supposed to get cold tonight, maybe even snow. She didn’t really think about how the weather affected her walk home anymore. Somehow, that didn’t matter as much as it used to. Funny how quickly things can change.

She walked faster as she rounded the corner. Yes, there was the dark green dumpster, looking black in the failing light. She peered hard through the steadily falling rain, looking for the pair of eyes she had seen yesterday and the day before and the day before that.

Karen felt a moment of almost panic when she failed to see the huddled little body with those fearful, yet hopeful green eyes. She pushed her short, wet bangs back from her thick-framed glasses and rummaged through her oversized shoulder bag. Her cold, wet fingers were slow in their search, but they finally located the small flashlight. She clicked it on and used the quickly dimming light it yielded to search around the dumpster, adding flashlight batteries to her mental shopping list.

“C’mon,” she said to herself aloud. “Where are you?” She slammed the failing flashlight in the palm of her hand in an effort to coax more battery power out of it and pointed it at the far right corner of the dumpster.

She exhaled forcefully, her breath steaming in the rapidly cooling air. The stray was there, hiding behind the darkest side of the dumpster tonight. She dropped the flashlight back in her purse and felt around for the pouch of smoked tuna she had brought with her. There weren’t a lot of choices in her pantry for sources of protein that would be fine all day outside of a fridge and be easy to open in the alley by the Greenlight dumpster, but this definitely fit the bill. She forgot her umbrella, she chastised herself as the rain blurred her vision, but at least she remembered the tuna.

She held the pouch out in front of her and approached the dumpster carefully.

“It’s okay,” she murmured repeatedly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you.” She could dimly see the soaked and matted hair and the little shivering body hunched up in the shadow behind the dumpster. She slowly squatted down and ripped the pouch of tuna open, letting the strong fishy smell permeate the air.

“I brought you something to eat.” Karen extended her arm out as far she could, but the stray would not be enticed to approach her.

“It’s okay,” she coaxed again. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to help you.” She held out the pouch again. She could barely make out the hungrily twitching nose and darting little pink tongue in the shadows, but the poor creature would not leave the protection of the dumpster. She waited a moment more before giving in.

“All right,” she shrugged. “Have it your way.” She put the pouch on the ground in front of her and backed away.

Karen walked the rest of the way home in the sole company of her thoughts. If only she could get this one’s trust. What was it about this little one that was different from all the others she had passed over the years? Karen shook her head. She couldn’t understand her deep response to those green eyes, but somehow, they hurt her very soul. This one she had to help. This one she had to save.

A car horn close behind Karen jerked her out of her thoughts, making her realize she almost missed her street. She wiped the rain from her glasses once again as she waited for a break in the traffic. She could see the lighted billboard across the street clearly for a few seconds before the rain once again blurred her vision. It said ‘MAKE A DIFFERENCE’ in neon orange letters.

Funny, Karen thought. I don’t remember seeing that sign before.

The next morning was cold, but at least the sun was shining. She went about her morning routine automatically, leaving her thoughts free. She grabbed another pouch of the flavored tuna and tossed it in her purse on the way out the door.

The day passed peacefully and routinely enough. One of her gambling addiction patients canceled at the last minute, but Karen was thankful for the break, her thoughts constantly fighting to move forward to her walk home. She spent the hour making notes and planning.

Karen phoned her assistant in the outer office. “Any openings tomorrow, Marge?” she asked.

“Looks like 2:00 to 3:00 tomorrow afternoon is empty.”

“Okay,” Karen replied. “Leave it unscheduled.”

“Will do, hon.”

Karen finally made her evening rounds, locked up her office, and headed for the Greenlight dumpster. Though the weather was better and there was no rain to impair her vision and chill her, impatience seemed to make the walk longer. Please let her still be there, she prayed over and over.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the green eyes peak around the corner of the dumpster at her. This time the eyes held her gaze. The tuna had made a difference, she thought, and smiled. Hunger was always a great motivator. She hoped it would be enough.

“Hi there,” she said cheerily. “Glad to see you made it through that rain okay.” She approached the dumpster cautiously. “I brought you some more tuna today.” She ripped open the pouch and held it out at arm’s length, waving it back and forth enticingly.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” she coaxed. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” She waited patiently, but the pitiful creature refused to move from behind the dumpster.

“Do you have any idea how much different and better your life could be if you could just trust me?” Karen waited a moment more.

“Oh sweetheart, what on earth have you been through that would make you that mistrustful? Okay,” she said with a shrug. “Have it your way.”

Karen walked the rest of the way home with mixed feelings. Her plan to save this poor homeless soul looked good on paper, but would it work in the real world?

She had no idea what the poor little thing had been through or endured. She looked terrible. Her hair was all matted and she was filthy. She needed food and a bath and a medical checkup. It definitely wasn’t going to happen without her cooperation. She just has to learn to trust me, thought Karen to herself. For her own sake.

Karen looked up just in time to greet the ‘MAKE A DIFFERENCE’ billboard.

“I’m trying,” she moaned aloud.

Friday dawned bright and sunny. Hopefully a good omen, thought Karen. She went through her morning routine and made her way out the door. She didn’t stop for a pouch of tuna today.

The day dragged slowly by and Karen struggled to keep her mind focused throughout the morning sessions. She bought two sandwiches from the lunch cart, but she ended up barely eating half of one of them. She placed the other one in the middle drawer of her desk.

The one o’clock session was with Mr. Hoover, an older gentleman who recently lost his wife to cancer and was struggling with depression. He was one of the few that sincerely broke Karen’s heart, and the hour passed quickly enough.

Mr. Hoover, an Army veteran and prompt to a fault, left precisely at 1:50 pm. Karen updated and organized his folder and filed it away, then stepped into the outer office.

“It’s almost two o’clock. Why don’t you go ahead and run to the office supply store, Marge. Do you have that list of what we’re low on?”

“Sure.” Marge, showing her efficiency, had grabbed the piece of paper neatly tucked into the corner of her desk blotter and her purse and coat in one swift movement. “Good luck,” she smiled encouragingly over her shoulder just before the door closed.

Karen paced nervously as she waited. She went from wall to wall and straightened chairs and pictures to pass the time.

She had rearranged the magazines for the third time when she thought she heard the slight squeak of the street door. She froze and listened carefully, eventually feeling more than hearing the approaching footsteps.

She sat in one of the oversized chairs lined up against the wall and tried to look relaxed. Her pulse quickened as she saw the door handle turn. It seemed like minutes passed before the door was fully opened and a pair of fearfully wide green eyes in a filthy, pale face appeared. Karen held her breath, fighting to keep control of her emotions. Don’t blow it now, she told herself over and over. Don’t blow it now.

Karen smiled at the frail-looking girl encouragingly, but didn’t move.

The green eyes quickly surveyed the empty room before coming back to Karen.

“Your note said if I came and spent an hour talking to you I could have some food and a night in the Harmon Inn?”

Karen smiled reassuringly, adding a heavy winter coat to her mental shopping list as her eyes registered the inadequacy of the one the teenager was wearing.

“That’s right. My name’s Karen.” She stood up. “Your food’s in here,” she said, leading the way into her office. Moving behind the heavy wooden desk, she opened the middle drawer and removed the sandwich, placing at the far edge of the empty desktop.

“Start with that,” she said, “and I have a voucher in my desk for the Inn. You’ll get that when you leave.” Karen pulled the drawer wide until she located the voucher. She smiled to herself as she caught a glimpse of the stack of notes just like the one the girl still clenched tightly in her left hand.

Luke 3:10-11

James 2:14-17

Hebrews 13:16

Matthew 25:44-45