“Today’s happiness makes today a dream, and tomorrow a creation of new hope.”



We are humans, and as humans don’t we have the utmost kindness in our heart to lend a hand to those in need of a dream, or maybe even hope? I ask this question to myself many times during my hardships. Such a civil place we, people, live in and yet hardly anyone assures the feeling that we’ll be okay or we’ll be alright. What has happened to this hope, this incredible feeling of security and belief? I grew up in a town that was mostly cloudy; not just the clouds in the skies. There were clouds in our eyes, heads, and even our hearts. This home of mine grew very well to me, but never once was there a hopeful start for me.
It was a Sunday afternoon; the sun’s rays were glowing onto my skin. There wasn’t a single sign of cotton in the sky, just the vast blue that hugged the Earth.

Today wasn’t so different from the others. In my patched, old clothes, I’d always sit beside the curb, watching the families; seeing their precious smile on their faces. I am reaching to the point where I am at my limit. Maybe the end is near. I’ve spent these years out in the trembling cold, the drenching rain, and the scorching heat. I’ve worn my cap above this gray head of mine, and have always had my wooden cane by my side. What has happened to my home, you ask? All of it is gone. I’m merely a man of old age, doing the job of looking for spare change in order to survive. A pessimist I am, I'm starting to die of hope inside. Will I really end my life on these streets?

No matter how delicate, or caring someone smiles at you, there’s no guarantee fact that they, too, are as pure as they look. It’s what I’ve learned through these years on the streets. I sometimes question myself, “What has made this beautiful world damaged?” In my last years of life, supposedly, I had never seen one person, with those passionate eyes, to care for such a person as me.

Trash-bangers…dirt-sleepers…it’s what I’ve been called. It’s such a horrible feeling that such human beings give off. I ought to give them a piece of my mind! But as they say, “When you point at someone, three of your fingers are pointed back at you.”


By the curb at a grocery, I placed myself onto the floor, my cane beside me. With my trembling hands that I held out, I begged the customers of the store for spare change, my eyes of sky giving a look of desperate need. It was then that a mother and her daughter passed by me.

“Mommy..” This little girl tugged on her mother’s dress continuously. “Mommy!” She cried. Her mother didn’t hear a thing she was saying.

It was then that her moth turned around, closing her cell phone. “Yes, dear?”

“Mommy..” The girl tugged once more. “Please Mommy, I want to help that man.” She pointed her fingers to me. In shock, I looked away, for her mother was giving me a dangerous look. The mother glared at me. “Dear..Let’s go home -” Holding her hand, starting to walk away.

“No!” She let go of her mom’s hand, in an angry mood. It looked as if a lake of tears would stream down her face anytime soon.

There she was her eyes of jade green. I have never seen one person, or a child, look at me with such eyes of hope; eyes to actually care. She was merely half of my size, about three feet. Her hazel hair dangled down her cheeks, two ribbons tied to her hair. Her cheeks were flushed with pink. Her fists of anger clenched her red frilly dress.

“Dear…Let’s go, you’re Papa’s going to be waiting..” The mother gingerly placed her hand on the little girl’s shoulder.

“No!” She exploded. With power, she shoved aside her mother’s hand. Then, she drenched her face as the rain did to the Earth.

It’s heart-breaking to see such sadness being poured into someone. A child, nonetheless. All I could do was watch this little girl bawl her eyes out. I looked into my pocket, wiggling around, hearing the jingle-jangle of the coins I’ve collected. I gathered these coins in my palm, and took out a quarter. Looking up, I met eyes with the child, and gestured her to come. Noticing my hand, she stopped crying and wiped the tears, and came toward my direction. I grasped her hand, placed the quarter in her palm, and closed it tight.

“Keep this,” I gently whispered, my voice cracking. “you may use it; it’s a gift from you to me, to wipe those tears off your precious little face.”

With her jade eyes, she looked at me with a concerned look. She pushed aside my hand, insisting that I’d take it back. But I shook my head.

“Each one of my coins are special to me. Please, take this one and keep it with you, always,” I smiled, giving her back the quarter.

Glancing down at the coin, her cheeks, once again, flushed. She smiled, and in a matter of seconds, disappeared into the arms of her mother.


It’s been a few weeks and the heat is finally dying out, with a slight breeze blowing pass my face. Such a cool breeze it is. In these days, I’ve claimed the curb as my own home. I’d sit here for days, this time, trembling, and begging for spare change. I have not seen the girl with child eyes ever again. I am waiting to see this bright child, with such an optimistic outlook for the future. That one child, I must see her again. The moment I spoke to her, a feeling of hope penetrated to me. Was it just me? I felt the waves of hope reach to me. I dreamed and longed for more, and hoped with all my heart that something great might happen to me.

Suddenly, I felt a pat on my shoulder. Slowly, I turned around. Behind me, glazing jade eyes had popped in front of me. In fright, I jumped to my feet.

The girl giggled. She handed me an envelope. “My Mommy told me to give you this,” she smiled. “Do you remember me?”

It was the same child, with those dazzling eyes and hazel hair. I noticed right away. Carefully breaking the envelope’s seal, I looked to see what was inside. There were several green bills. My mouth dropped. I simply, out of all circumstances, could not take such a huge sum of money!

The little girl whispered to my ear. “Mister, I still have that coin you gave me!” before I could look up, she was gone. But I caught my eye on her when she was getting into a car with her mother, and being put into a car seat. She looked into my eyes.

And with those jade eyes, she smiled.

We, of all people, need to realize what hope really is. It’s the feeling of our heart, and the passion that keeps the pessimists, nonbelievers, and the hopeless ones to go far. I’m sure that there’s many times in our lives where we just can’t go any further. Don’t let the thunder and lightning inside you hold you back. No matter what, there’s still hope. It’s what we need to believe.