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Ducking into Nell’s Cafe’ to grab a noon-hour snack, I noticed, sitting quietly in a distant corner booth, A little girl that checked the entire list of common features, including totally trusting eyes and, yes - a missing tooth. Assuming that her folks were ordering food, I glanced away, figurin’ she’d be prob’ly snarfing breakfast tout de suite, But after I’d been handed what I’d ordered - and a cup - I noticed, as I strolled across the room to find a seat, The girl - still unattended ---- and now close enough to tell, I easily read the fear and doubt with which her eyes were filled, And that became the instant I proactively embarked on doing what to which my heart, by fate, had thus been willed. Fairly thin and rather frail, I guessed she hadn’t eaten in very likely several hours and, possibly, all day, So...anxious to console her, I approached her with this fib…“The lady accidentally put two burgers on my tray, “And I was wond’ring, sweetie, if you’d like the extra one - and the giant drink this meal included’s way too big for me, So we can share my soda, too, and...if we drink it dry...the same as lots of restaurants, honey, refills here are free!” She fixed her puzzled eyes on mine and leaned back in her seat, understandably leery of the offer that I’d made. Why”- her face was quizzing me - would someone she didn’t know choose to share their food with her...a meal for which they’d paid?” I glanced around to verify that no one there seemed - ‘with her’ - then came right out and asked her, “Are your parents here with you?” “My daddy was an army man,” she timidly explained, “and Mommy did exactly what she promised him she’d do “If he was taked away by God --- she joined him up in heaven. She left me here last night with all the money that she had... Told me she was sorry, but she had to leave because...her heart refused to let her break her promise to my dad. “I don’t have no brothers or no sisters,” she went on, “and all my parents’ relatives have past away,” she said, “And we just got evicted, so she left me here, at Nell’s, afraid that - once she’d joined my dad - that I could wind up dead!” “Here’s a note she wrote for me that says my name and age, and tells that I ain’t got no folks or any place to go Where I can be with grownups who can help to keep me safe. Somewhere I can sleep at night, and where I’ll actually know Where my next meal’s coming from. And just before she left, she dried our eyes, best she could, and softly said a prayer That someone like yourself would come along and - as you did - notice I was hungry and be nice enough to share.” “You can have them both,” I stammered, fighting back my tears, “and if you’d care for something else, dear, you just say the word.” In all my eighty-seven years the tale she’d just conveyed comprised the saddest story that, to date, I’d ever heard. “Friends of ours in Tampa Bay have tried for quite some time to have a child but, sadly, she’s unable to conceive. Wha-da-ya say I call them and ask if they’d be interested in meeting you, and trust me, hon, I honestly believe “They’d absolutely love to get a chance to give a child just like you a place to live and everything they need! Someone they can truly love...teach them right from wrong...and fin’ly have...as I just did...another mouth to feed!” “After we’re done eating, I can drive us to the courthouse and we can check with who it is that handles things like this. You’re the opportunity my friends are praying for...and the chance to be their daughter’s one I’d hate to see you miss. “If we were somewhat younger, child, I’d offer you the option of actually growing up with us - ‘cause we’d love nothing more Than seeing to your every need and helping you - grow up. We had a son for twenty years, but - like your dad - a war “Tore from us the purpose in our lives when he was killed...and - like your mother - after losing Dale - our only kid - Me and Connie couldn’t bear to risk that pain again, and actually gave some thought to doing - what your mother did!” Maybe it was hunger that inspired her to trust me, or maybe sharing facts with her on how our son had died, Along with all the likenesses within our situations, having fought our battles - won and lost - with suicide... But why she’d let her guard down was irrelevant to me when she looked up, found my eyes, and queried me, point blank, “If I accept your offer and I eat that extra burger, and help to drink your soda pop, then you’ll have me to thank (continued) See part 2 of 2-part "Because I Got Involved"

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Because I Got Involved - Part 1 of 2

Ducking into Nell’s Cafe’ to grab a noon-hour snack, I noticed, sitting quietly in a distant corner booth, A little girl that checked the entire list of common features, including totally trusting eyes and, yes - a missing tooth. Assuming that her folks were ordering food, I glanced away, figurin’ she’d be prob’ly snarfing breakfast tout de suite, But after I’d been handed what I’d ordered - and a cup - I noticed, as I strolled across the room to find a seat, The girl - still unattended ---- and now close enough to tell, I easily read the fear and doubt with which her eyes were filled, And that became the instant I proactively embarked on doing what to which my heart, by fate, had thus been willed. Fairly thin and rather frail, I guessed she hadn’t eaten in very likely several hours and, possibly, all day, So...anxious to console her, I approached her with this fib…“The lady accidentally put two burgers on my tray, “And I was wond’ring, sweetie, if you’d like the extra one - and the giant drink this meal included’s way too big for me, So we can share my soda, too, and...if we drink it dry...the same as lots of restaurants, honey, refills here are free!” She fixed her puzzled eyes on mine and leaned back in her seat, understandably leery of the offer that I’d made. Why”- her face was quizzing me - would someone she didn’t know choose to share their food with her...a meal for which they’d paid?” I glanced around to verify that no one there seemed - ‘with her’ - then came right out and asked her, “Are your parents here with you?” “My daddy was an army man,” she timidly explained, “and Mommy did exactly what she promised him she’d do “If he was taked away by God --- she joined him up in heaven. She left me here last night with all the money that she had... Told me she was sorry, but she had to leave because...her heart refused to let her break her promise to my dad. “I don’t have no brothers or no sisters,” she went on, “and all my parents’ relatives have past away,” she said, “And we just got evicted, so she left me here, at Nell’s, afraid that - once she’d joined my dad - that I could wind up dead!” “Here’s a note she wrote for me that says my name and age, and tells that I ain’t got no folks or any place to go Where I can be with grownups who can help to keep me safe. Somewhere I can sleep at night, and where I’ll actually know Where my next meal’s coming from. And just before she left, she dried our eyes, best she could, and softly said a prayer That someone like yourself would come along and - as you did - notice I was hungry and be nice enough to share.” “You can have them both,” I stammered, fighting back my tears, “and if you’d care for something else, dear, you just say the word.” In all my eighty-seven years the tale she’d just conveyed comprised the saddest story that, to date, I’d ever heard. “Friends of ours in Tampa Bay have tried for quite some time to have a child but, sadly, she’s unable to conceive. Wha-da-ya say I call them and ask if they’d be interested in meeting you, and trust me, hon, I honestly believe “They’d absolutely love to get a chance to give a child just like you a place to live and everything they need! Someone they can truly love...teach them right from wrong...and fin’ly have...as I just did...another mouth to feed!” “After we’re done eating, I can drive us to the courthouse and we can check with who it is that handles things like this. You’re the opportunity my friends are praying for...and the chance to be their daughter’s one I’d hate to see you miss. “If we were somewhat younger, child, I’d offer you the option of actually growing up with us - ‘cause we’d love nothing more Than seeing to your every need and helping you - grow up. We had a son for twenty years, but - like your dad - a war “Tore from us the purpose in our lives when he was killed...and - like your mother - after losing Dale - our only kid - Me and Connie couldn’t bear to risk that pain again, and actually gave some thought to doing - what your mother did!” Maybe it was hunger that inspired her to trust me, or maybe sharing facts with her on how our son had died, Along with all the likenesses within our situations, having fought our battles - won and lost - with suicide... But why she’d let her guard down was irrelevant to me when she looked up, found my eyes, and queried me, point blank, “If I accept your offer and I eat that extra burger, and help to drink your soda pop, then you’ll have me to thank (continued) See part 2 of 2-part "Because I Got Involved"