The Coat That Warmed Three Hearts

Copyrighted@RobMason2012

                    The alarm sounded its usual six in the morning wake up call. Yet on this Monday morning, It seemed particularly shrilling to Sarah’s ears. “Mondays”, she thought to herself. “I hate Mondays.” The routine was always the same. Get herself ready, wake up Josh, get him ready and then out the door to daycare and then to work. Sarah hated her dead-end, low paying job. But when raising a kid alone and with little education, it was the best she could do for now.

Having become extremely efficient from several years of experience, she had Josh awake, dressed and fed in forty five minutes flat. Then she had a few more minutes to fix up herself and out the door to catch the seven fifteen bus. They usually arrived at the daycare around seven thirty. After a few greetings and some small talk, Sarah was kissing Josh goodbye and then was off to work. It was a long walk and she was thankful that spring had finally arrived along with some warmer weather. The city bus went right by her place of employment but did so five minutes too late. Sarah knew she could never be late. Never! So like every other day, she began that long walk to work.

Past the old and decaying buildings that were once a vibrant down town core, Sarah’s daily trek took her through parts of the city that most would not even think of walking through. The streets were filled with abandoned cars, garbage, furniture, and of course, the homeless. Here, the criminal element did their deeds as the dues were paid and favours were exchanged. The police never came down here nor did any of those who distributed food and clothing to the homeless. The name of this place was Avenue End because it was the end of the line for many. But it was the quickest way to work and ensured that she was never late. And she could never be late. “Besides”, she always thought to herself, "Nobody messes with the Crazy Mama Bitch” anymore. Sarah always chuckled to herself when recalling the day she earned that nickname. But at the time, she was absolutely frightened for herself and her son.

Sarah was a single mother. Pregnant at nineteen, she opted to keep her baby in spite of the odds and as well as having no help from the father. She didn’t even know where the father was. And that suited her just fine. It was a hard life but Sarah endured it and always clung to the hope that somehow, her and that beautiful little boy would make it. She had dreamt of being an editor of a fashion or culture magazine one day. Those dreams seemed lost lately but she never regretted her decision to keep her baby. She had explored the idea of going to college full-time or even taking night courses but there was just not enough money. Even with special grants and the help of social services, she would never be able to make ends meet. “But someday”. She always told herself. “Someday, I will give my son a better life.” The previous year, the daycare workers went out on strike for just over a week. Sarah had no choice but to bring Josh to work and enrol him in the daycare across the road. It was more expense than the government run daycare she had and it also meant that she had to bring Josh with her when she walked through the old part of town. For over a year she made that same trek no matter the seasons and endured the endless taunts, propositions and rude gestures from the drug dealers and the punks who had nothing better to do but hang out and harass people. And there was that one very frightening moment which led to her being nicknamed the “Crazy Mama Bitch”.

While pushing three year old Josh in his stroller on the way to work, Sarah encountered a group of ruffians who seemed intent on pestering her. They surrounded her and her son and began with the taunts and sexual gestures. At first, Sarah never said anything as she tried to push past them and get out of this part of the city. The group of young men refused to let her pass. After a few minutes the loudest and crudest of the bunch tried to grab Sarah. She kept avoiding him and asking them all to leave her alone. But then he did the unthinkable. He leaned towards toward Josh and put his hand out as if was about to touch Sarah’s son. There were no thoughts of a plan. She had no comprehension of consequences. In fact, Sarah did not think at all. She simply reacted to protect her son. Sarah was all over this punk in an instant slapping and punching him wildly and with everything she had. And she was screaming at him the entire time. Afterwards, Sarah could never recall what she said or how many times she hit him but she did remember him screaming at her, “Calm down you Crazy Mama Bitch!” The entire neighbourhood was watching as this punk tried to save face after Sarah’s pummelling. As she began to calm down the young man seemed to get braver as he moved towards her again. Sarah responded with another lunge at him swinger her fists all the while. He backed away again, rather quickly. No one else in the group seemed to have any desire to take on Sarah. As the group began to move away from Sarah some of the onlookers were taunting the group and especially the punk who got Sarah so agitated. As he kept walking away he was shooting the finger to everyone while continuing to call Sarah a Crazy Mama Bitch. That nickname stuck and no one harassed Sarah after that.

One morning while walking the same streets to work, Sarah noticed these same punks pestering an elderly homeless lady whom she had seen on the street many times. When they pushed her to the ground, Sarah ran towards them yelling, “Hey! Leave her alone you bunch of Punks!” A few others came running as well. The group of males took off running and never stopped until they were out sight of the would be rescuers of the helpless old lady. Sarah was first to arrive and began to help the elderly lady to her feet. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked. “I’m okay” replied the lady getting up slowly. “Thank you for stopping to help me.” “I’m just glad you are ok” said Sarah up righting the elderly Lady’s shopping cart. “Where is your son? I haven’t seen him with you in such a long time”, the old lady stated. “I like children. I have a few of my own you know but they are all grown up know.” “He is at daycare” Sarah replied. “I drop him off there before I go to work.” Instantly she was reminded about work and how she couldn’t be late. “Well….If you are okay then I better get to work before I’m late.” The elderly lady was reaching into shopping cart looking for something. “Just a minute my dear, I have something for you for helping an old lady in distress.” Sarah, now really worried about being late for work, tried to protest any gifts but the old lady was insistent. Eventually she pulled out an old, multi coloured winter coat. It looked hideous and was full of holes. She handed it to Sarah as proud as a Peacock. Again Sarah tried to protest but the old Lady would not take no for an answer. She finally accepted the gift and let it be known that she really had to get going or be late for work. The old lady leaned in close to Sarah and said, “I know it doesn’t look like much, but on a cold winter day when your hands get too cold, the pockets in this coat are especially warm.” The old lady smiled coyly and then told Sarah, “And with warm hands, you can do anything!” Sarah thanked the old lady once more and then was off to work. She was practically running so as not to be late.

Sarah detested this ugly looking coat. And it seemed awfully heavy. She contemplated throwing it in the trash but decided against it. She wondered if the old lady might need it back when the cold weather returned. Once home, Sarah wrapped up the coat in plastic, threw it in a box in the closet and soon forgot about it. The days passed on in routine and Sarah and Josh made due the best they could as they always did. Money was sparse but love was in abundance. And it sustained them even on the days when Sarah really wished she could provide more for her son. “He deserves better” she would tell herself. The summer passed by quickly as did autumn. The northern winds had begun to blow and soon winter was in full force. As she did every day, Sarah dropped off Josh at daycare and headed off to work. She had no idea that her life was about to become drastically different.

On her way to work she noticed that the old homeless lady was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Sarah had not seen her for quite some time. She decided to stop and ask a few of the girls standing on the street corner if they had seen the old lady lately. Sarah was devastated when hearing the news! The old lady had died the previous week. As Sarah continued her trek to work she could not stop thinking about the old lady. She was such a nice lady and the news of her death upset Sarah very much. Throughout the day she could not stop thinking about it. Finally, the work day was over and it was time to get on the bus and go pick up Josh from daycare. As Sarah gathered her things, she realized her winter coat was gone. She searched everywhere and asked everyone but the coat was nowhere to be found. Sarah came to the conclusion that someone must have stolen it. She had no choice but to brave the cold until she and Josh were home.

After Josh was put to bed for the night, Sarah began to wonder what she was going to do for a winter coat. She had no spare and no money for another coat. She suddenly remembered the old ripped coat that the old lady had given her. She detested the thought of going anywhere in that hideous old thing but Sarah knew she didn’t have a choice. She went to the closet and took the coat out of the box. It was the ugliest thing she had ever seen. And it still felt so heavy. Sarah hung it up for the morning and readied herself for bed. While lying there she began to sob hysterically. She just couldn’t deal with things anymore.

The alarm rang and Sarah rose to the normal routine. She instantly thought of that hideous coat and was already in a bad mood. She was embarrassed to be seen in the coat when dropping Josh to daycare. She was in an out hardly talking to anyone. Although she hated the coat, she was at least happy to have something warm as the temperature had dipped below minus ten degrees. Even with her gloves on her hands were still cold. Sarah slipped both hands into the coat pockets only to find that the lining inside was ripped. Her hands went all the way to the bottom. Both her hands felt something at the bottom of the coat and she was now curious as to what these objects could be. Sarah pulled her hands out of the coat pockets, took off her gloves and reached back into the pockets to pull out whatever was down there. What she pulled out stopped her in her tracks! She pulled her other hand out of the pocket and just stared at what she now held in both of her hands. Reaching once more into the pockets she felt even more. Sarah quickly stuffed everything back into the pockets, turned around and ran as fast as she could back home. Once there she emptied everything out of the coat wherever she found the liner ripped. She fell to the floor and began to weep! What Sarah had found at the bottom of the coat that made it so heavy was money. Lots of money! She began counting it. When she was done she had counted fifty three thousand dollars!

Sarah sat at the table excited and yet nervous. She had never done this before and was not sure what to expect. She did not really know if anyone would even show up. But the lineup out the door and down the street had answered her question with absolute clarity. As she was introduced, there was a thunderous applause and then that lineup of people started to move towards her eagerly. It had been four years since Sarah found the money in that ugly coat given to her by a homeless lady. Along with government grants and loans, she was able to quit her job and go to college. Sarah graduated and took a position as Junior Editor at a small but prestigious culture magazine. Today, Sarah was at a book store for a book signing for her first novel that had just made the New York Time’s Best Seller List. The first person in line for an autograph was a very young lady who was there with her little son. Sarah signed her name and then closed the book. But before she returned the book to the young lady, she took a moment to look at the cover. She smiled and thought of that kind old lady who had changed the lives of both she and her son. Handing back the book to the young lady, Sarah smiled and thanked her for the support. She spent the rest of the afternoon signing over two hundred copies of her best selling book that she had appropriately titled, “The Coat That Warmed Three Hearts”, by Sarah Chapman.

What Smile Is This

Another one that got missed for the last book.


Copyrghted@RobMason2012

I present drenched in the refreshing
A preposterous pleasure
What comfort is this
One I must surely not deserve
Where is that darkness on a sunny day
I feel no more from frigid
Why did depression abandon me
I cannot fight
What I cannot feel
Where is the loneliness crowding
Alone with myself
And this spirit itching to fly
Who sent me these Angels
Now there are always expectations
Never expecting too much
No one was ever disappointed
How do I live this way
What am I to do now
I made final preparations
And came the eleventh hour
It was written in stone
Then I smiled

Little Heroes

Brody took to the field pumped and ready to take care of business in the bantam division city wide soccer championship. Today, the two tops teams with identical records would put it all on the line for the trophy and for the bragging rights for another year. This was Brody’s final year in the Bantam Division and he wanted that prize that had escaped for him for the past two years. He was on a mission.

Brody was taller and bigger than most of the kids his age. On the field, the other players found him intimidating. Brody, while always displaying sportsmanship, had learned to use that intimidation factor to his advantage. The truth be told, Brody was not a very good soccer player. And he was well aware of it. Brody was awkward, couldn’t run very fast and was really not that strong. And his skills with the ball were minimal at best. But he was a smart player who understood the game well, and he had learned very quickly to compensate for his shortcomings. In fact, Brody had become so good at hiding his inabilities that he quickly became recognized as one of the top players in the league. Everyone liked Brody and wanted him on their team.

Brody’s team won the kick-off and were immediately on the offensive. His position was halfback and he played it well. He knew what area of the field was his to cover and he rarely strayed from it. The ball came into Brody’s area and he was on it and already moving up the field. Knowing the other team’s players would catch up to him easily, Brody waited until they were almost on top of him before making an abrupt stop. The two opposing team players went by him as he stopped, turned sharply and headed across the field laterally. Spotting one of his forwards on the move, Brody moved the ball up field in that direction. It wasn’t a great pass but then again, it didn’t have to be. He kicked the ball way ahead of his teammate who would chase it down and move to strike on the net. To the unsuspecting eye, Brody was an awesome player. Unfortunately, Brody’s teammate chasing down the ball was Daniel. He kicked at the ball while falling at the same time and forcing the ball out of bounds. The other team would now take possession. Daniel was younger and smaller than Brody. In fact, Daniel looked like a scrawny, sickly kid and he frequently tripped over his own two feet. He was not well liked on the team as he routinely made mistakes and no one really wanted to pass him the ball. No one but Brody that is. Daniel never wanted to play soccer. He never wanted to play any sports. He was quite content reading his books about whales and dolphins and looking at pictures of underwater animals. But his parents mandated that he play at least one sport in the summer time. So Daniel chose soccer. He was aware that not many on his team liked him and he often heard the remarks they made about him after he screwed up a potential scoring opportunity. And he screwed it up almost always. He never understood why Brody kept passing him the ball and wished some times that Brody wouldn’t pass to him at all. But nothing like that ever phased Brody. He ran over to Daniel, helped him up, patted him on the back and said, “Good try Daniel”.

The game was close throughout the first half and both teams were tied at one goal apiece. Brody played his position well and spent the second half, being in the right place at the right time. He made passes to open players, prevented lose balls from escaping the offensive zone and evened joined in on a rush or two. As an opposing player came down the field with the ball, Brody went up to challenge. The other player put on a burst of speed down the sideline and Brody was well aware that he needed to take away the outside lane because he knew he did not have the ability to stay with this speedster. As he moved to take away the outside lane, Brody anticipated the other player would try to cut to the middle for some open field. Brody waited for it. He was patient and never tipped his hand. As soon as the other played made his cut, Brody stepped up, took the ball and headed up the field. He saw, Kyle streaking up the middle with a chance to split the defence and lofted the ball in that direction. Kyle was the leading scorer in the league and he was also fast. Kyle chased down the ball and was the first to get control of it. Brody’s pass had been placed perfectly allowing Kyle to use his speed to split the defence and send a rocket into the top right corner of the net. With just under two minutes to go in the game, it looked like Brody was finally going to get that trophy.

The other team was desperately moving the ball up field as the time ticked off the clock. Brody noticed one of his teammates out of position and adjust himself accordingly. He was all alone now covering two positions and the other team recognized it and headed in Brody’s direction. Brody knew his job was to guard the other player already in his zone. But if he did that, the ball carrier had too much open field and would get close to striking on the net. But if he moved to challenge the ball carrier, he would leave the player in his area unguarded. For a moment, Brody didn’t know what to do. But out of the corner of his eye he saw Kyle streaking across the field with considerable speed towards the other team’s player moving the ball. Instantly Brody turned and ran as fast as he could towards his own net. Just as he did, Kyle was approaching the ball carrier who was forced to kick the ball up field towards the open player Brody had been guarding. With a bit of a headed start, Brody was able to chase down the ball first. His anticipation had paid off. He wielded around and kicked the ball as hard as he could. He didn’t care where it went as long as it went in the opposite direction of his net. They were out of danger and the clock was ticking towards the end of the game.

One of Brody’s teammates chased down Brody’s wild kick and was moving up field. He made a few sneaky moves and found himself moving towards the other team’s net with only a few players left to get around. Kyle was also up field and moving fast. Nobody noticed that scrawny kid named Daniel who was also forward and right in the thick of the action. Kyle kept moving and calling for the pass. It finally came. But before it reached Kyle who was now positioned to score, Daniel stepped up to kick the ball. But he tripped over it instead. The ball squirted out behind him and was fielded by the other team who moved it down the field as quick as they could. They came with speed and with numbers. They overwhelmed Brody and the two remaining players on the defensive and scored. With just under thirty seconds to play, the game was tied. Several of Daniels’s teammates leered over at him and one even shouted, “Way to go Daniel!” The game ended in a tie and now a shoot-out would decide the champions.

Along the sidelines, Brody tapped Daniel on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about it. We all make mistakes. We’ll beat them in the shoot-out. The coach reiterated Brody’s words of encouragement and for a moment, Daniel felt somewhat relieved. As the coach chose the players for the shoot-out, Daniel hoped that he would be one of them. He wanted to score just once so that his teammates might like him. But he wasn’t picked. Only the best five were going to get the opportunity to be heroes. The coach first picked Kyle, then Brody and then three others to shoot. Kyle was of course, an automatic choice since he was the league’s leading scorer. And course Brody was picked because everyone thought he was also one of the best. But Brody had only scored three goals that year. But he was usually involved in making the great plays that led to the goals by others. It was time for the shoot-out to begin.

First up was Kyle. He made no mistake and fired a rocket into the net. The other team’s player missed. Brody prepared for his shot. He knew exactly what he was going to do. Everyone thought that because he was big that he would kick it hard and high. But he really wasn’t a very good shot. He took a few more steps farther back than usual and waited for the referee’s whistle. When he heard it, he ran as fast as he could towards the ball and brought his foot back as if to wind up and blow the ball by the goal keeper. He did exactly the opposite. As the goalie moved to his left anticipating a high and fast ball, Brody tapped the ball along the ground towards the right corner. It just slowly rolled in to the net for an easy score. Everyone thought Brody was brilliant. Every player after that scored but since Brody’s team had one more goal they were crowned champions.  After the celebrations and awards, there were hot dogs and drinks for the kids and lots of fun events. There was even the annual shoot-out competition. Brody decided to enter the competition for the first time.

Kyle usually won this competition and was expected to do so again this year. Nine players entered the competition including a scrawny, sickly looking kid named Daniel. He was eliminated after the first round. One by one each player was eliminated until there were only two left. They were Kyle and Brody. Kyle had just blasted kick after kick into the net while Brody had to use every trick he had to keep fooling the goalie. But he was now out of tricks. Kyle was kicking first. He blasted another rocket that beat the goalie easily. But it hit the top cross bar and bounced away. Kyle had missed. Brody had decided to just aim for a corner and kick it as hard as he could. As he was about shoot, he heard a voice yell out, “Come Brody, you can do it!” It was Daniel urging him on. Even after being eliminated in the first round, he was still there to cheer his teammate on. Brody kicked the ball as hard as he could. It wasn’t a great shot but it was good enough. He scored!

Later, as Brody was leaving for home with his parents, he saw Daniel and his parents heading for their car. “I’ll be right back Mom, I just have to say bye to Daniel.” And off he went. “Hey Daniel, wait up”, Brody shouted. Daniel and his parents turned and waited for Brody to catch up. “I think you forgot something Daniel” Brody said, handing Daniel the Shoot-Out trophy. “But this is yours Brody. You won it”. “But you tried just as hard as I did Daniel. And I probably wouldn’t have scored that last goal without you cheering for me. So we both won it so we both can share it” Brody replied. Brody spun around and ran back towards his waiting parents. He turned around and yelled back to Daniel, “See you at the Awards Banquet next Saturday”. Brody never saw the look on the faces of Daniel's parents. Nor did he see the look in Daniel’s teary eyes at holding his first trophy ever. And Brody did not notice the group of coaches who were standing nearby talking, and who had witnessed what had just transpired.

The Banquet hall was already abuzz from all of the players and their families. The kids were running around like a pack of wild animals while the parents just chit chatted with each other waiting for the ceremony to start. First there would be a dinner, then the handing out of the awards and then a dance for the kids. Brody was excited as he walked in. It was almost time for dinner to begin. He looked around for some of his friends wondering where he was going to sit. He knew that somebody would save a few seats for him and his parents. Just then he heard a voice calling his name. He looked over and it was Daniel. He had saved a few seats for Brody and his family. After dinner the coaches started handing out the awards to all who were chosen. Daniel didn’t receive any award. But he never expected to. Then there came the moment for the MVP award. It was the most prestigious and had been won by Brody’s teammate Kyle, three years in a row. One of Brody’s coaches from a previous year had been selected to hand out the award. He first explained as is done every year, what the MVP trophy is all about. He then went on to say the following…

“For the past few years, one player's name has been submitted over and over again for recognition. This young man has been given consideration every year for the MVP award because of his dedication to the game, his sportsmanship, his attitude towards the concept of team, and for his ability to make the players around him better. And each year he has fallen just a few votes short of winning this award. But this year he could not be denied. When this player’s name was submitted for consideration for MVP, he received unanimous support from the committee. I am proud to announce that this year the league’s Most Valuable Player is…Brody Schuyler!”

Brody was stunned. He heard the cheers and applause. He felt Daniel slapping him on the back in congratulations. He saw his parents clapping and smiling with pride and yet, it all seemed out of focus. He finally pulled himself together to get up and receive his award. As he did, Daniel stood up and kept clapping. Then Daniels parents stood up. Then his parents stood up. And as Brody walked toward the stage to claim his trophy, everyone was standing and cheering. The coach shook Brody’s hand and they both stood and posed for a few pictures. Before letting go of Brody’s hand, the coach leaned down and whispered into Brody’s ear. “Maybe this trophy will make up for the one you gave to Daniel. Well done!”

Brody and Daniel became the best of friends and remained so all through high school. Ironically, Brody lost interest in playing competitive soccer but helped Daniel, who became good enough to make the high school team every year. And Daniel helped Brody study for tests and improve his grades. By the end of high school, that scrawny and sickly looking kid had bulked up and filled out to a strong young man. In his final year, Daniel was offered a full soccer scholarship to the University of Southern California where he was part of two NCAA championship teams. He also graduated with honours, receiving a degree in Marine Biology and moved to Costa Rica to work with Green Peace in their efforts to study and protect marine life from extinction. Brody graduated university also with honours, and returned home to open his own accounting firm. They remain close friends to this day.

Many people wait all of their lives for that one life altering event that will define them and point their compass in the direction of their destiny. Perhaps it is those lesser moments of life that define us and help us choose our path towards our fate. Perhaps it begins with congratulations even when one has faltered. Maybe it is a trophy earned that is given away to someone who has yet to come into their own. Perhaps it is the right person, at the right time there to witness your good deeds. Maybe it is in accepting a seat from an outcast when one is already saved by those more popular. We search throughout our lives looking everywhere for the answers that we believe will guide us. Perhaps we are the answer and have just been asking the wrong questions.




~Rob Mason

Mean Season

Mean Season

Relieved in another work day done, I stepped outside of the comfort of my dry, heated work place to find clumps of snow so large and falling from the sky that I was in disbelief. Although having a personal distain with Old Man Winter, I could not contain my wonderment and awe from these crystal clear snowflakes falling from the sky and changing a once amourous landscape of colourful colours to a blanket of frosty white. The first snowfall of every winter seems to transport me back in time as memories of my childhood wash over me and that familiar, yet always new feeling of being reborn. Forgotten, if only for a brief time, are the everyday frustrations of another day in the life.

Sitting there, my mind darts from one thought to another toiling in the trivial while the truck slowly warms. Then I am off. The trek home to my city will be a long one. It always is. As with my personal story, my work too avails the life of a gypsy. I take my place with the rest of the home bound mob rushing to embrace whatever waits for me if anything at all. I routinely submit to this routine often amazed that I arrive home having rarely remembered the journey. Getting out of the city is a painstaking exercise often involving many muttered insults for those sorts on the road who should never be allowed such a privilege of driving a one ton piece of metal and rubber. With the in-climate weather, the trip home will be even more mundane today. Or so I thought.

Travelling along at a snail's pace, I approach an intersection with a red light. While waiting for the light to turn green, my attention is caught by a person standing alone on the medium separating the masses on their way to their safe havens of comfort. Initially, the figure is hard to identify due to the heavy snowfall. But as eyes adjust, I see it is a woman bundled up to brave the cold and holding a sign to oncoming traffic. Squinting, I try and focus on what her sign reads and then instantly feeling deeply saddened when reading the words, "Homeless Can You Help?" I have seen this many times before and still with that uneasy feeling every time. It is as if I am suddenly aware of my own personal failure to know I live in a world that could allow such a thing. At that moment, all that weighed on my mind dissipated and was immediately replaced by what I can only describe as a feeling I would give anything to never have to feel again. The light turned green.

I know what I need to do. I know what my responsibility is. Yet some sort of defence mechanism takes hold of me as if justifying what I am about to do. “She is a drunk. She is a drug addict. She is lazy and a useless drain on our society”, I told myself.  I didn’t have much to give. I would have more and would give more if family law had not defrauded me to serve their collective and convenient agendas. “It is not my fault”, I stammered out loud! I was worried about next month and the month after that. I was confident that such reassurances of my limitations to help would ease my pesky conscience. It did not. I drive on by and continue on my way home. A home Depot parking lot is to my right. Then there is a Walmart. Then I pass a gas station. And even a beer store and I contemplated purchasing a six pack for after I arrived home. But I just drive. I even tell myself that because I care, that is more than most. I stopped short of patting myself on the back for at least caring. As with many brief moments of our lives, I was confident that this moment would be swallowed up in collage of meaningful and useless memories and then soon forgotten. I was soon to find out that I was to be mistaken.

The days and weeks went by and I found myself thinking about that woman. Each time I drove by her it seemed easier to just drive by her. Everyone else did. And as it always does, the holidays seemed to silently creep upon me and then suddenly jumped up in my face reminding me that I had too many obligations to tend too with too little time left. When leaving the grocery store one night, I slipped a five dollar bill into that little red pot for the Salvation Army. As I did my thoughts were of that woman. Maybe she would be the beneficiary of that contribution. I truly believed it would ease my conscience. It did not. I put a five dollar bill in that little red pot every time I walked by it. And I walked by it often. Eventually I put more into that little red pot during Christmas than I would have ever given that woman had I originally stopped to help her. As of yet I still have not come to terms with what that says about me. Perhaps I am afraid of the truth. And fiction seems to always have a way of making more sense.

Weeks later and while driving home from work one day I did not see that woman. In fact, I never did see her again after that. But I wondered about her. But I did not want to know what happened to her unless it was a happy ending. We humans can be odd that way. We are the most evolved species on this earth and yet, that basic instinct of caring for another too often escapes us. And to this day I think about that woman more times than I wish for. And I'm not yet sure what that says about me. I am hopeful that it means that there is hope for me and perhaps for our world that one day we will solve this solvable problem.

It is a frigid December night when I finally find that balance of emotions that allows me to add this story to my collection. The patio window rattles and shakes. Outside the snow is falling and an unusually strong, angry northern wind rips across this sleeping town. The temperature well below freezing and everyone I know will be snuggled in warmth. Another mean season has arrived. I look out the window sipping on a glass of wine but I see no one about. Yet I know they are out there. It seems that to be out of sight is to be out of mind. And for that I am sometimes grateful.Top of Form

Bottom of Form

Convoluted

There was one more poem I wanted to include in the last book but could never remember which one it was. Thus, I could never find it. As always seems to happen, when I was looking for something else recently, I finally found that poem. Of course I never did find what I was looking for this time. Perhaps I am suffering from the early stages of "Some-Timer's Disease".

Copyrighted@RobMason2012




I am the sea
In times aimlessly adrift
The stars guiding direction
And stars reminding
At the mercy of passing storms
I am washed away
Then brought back with the tide

I am the wind
I go where I will
Swept up and carried away
Descending
Churning up the landscape
Gentle or raging
I am always in season

I am fire
Unpredictable
An animal always is
Compensating for frigid
A necessity
Careful if fanning the flame

I am earth
A broad settling of dust
Creative
In constant motion
At the mercy of the elements
Then reformed

I Believe

I believe that the roses blooming
Is the very reason the birds are singing
And a sky of blue means everything is okay
I believe in the roads twisting turning
It reminds us of that restless churning
We kick our feet and soon off to find our way
The sun will fade and the moon will rise
It happens every single time
The ones that live the ones who die
We can't change when its our time
And I believe in the ones still lost
Ten thousand miles and paying the cost
Every step is a step closer to finding home
I believe in much brighter days
And everyone lost will find their way
No one who walks this earth should walk alone
We stand and draw a line in the sand
Find ourselves through helping hands
We can close our eyes but we still see
Still the best things in this life are free
And I believe in that loving touch
If everyone could just feel that once
The memories left can help us through the pain
I believe in two hearts to one
And that love is meant not just for some
Searching for that one who wants what we can give
And through the failures still we try
We search for love until the day we die
Along the way we learn some things
Who can know what tomorrow might bring
And I believe

Cryptic Without Cause

Copyrighted@RobMason2012

From collisions of life and death
Conclusions are never binding
Alternated with many realities
Not all is purged with perception
Then formed is an insurrection
Colliding thoughts in conflict
Nothing to clarify an ambiguity
In between continues cascading
The threshold is impassable
Either side presents intolerable
Constant calamity accumulates
Only time seems to be in motion
Caught between the seasons
Tides never ebbed nor forwarded
Steps not taken are frantic
Like a pendulum
Not swinging and not in balance
The portal remains open
For how long who can say
Indecision is a cause for concern
When two choices lead to pain