The Hero without a cape

Middle of December, in the middle of the City, everybody finished work whizzing around the streets laughing, crying and just doing what people do. I'm one of those people, I don't really think about the world around me, I like to live in a little bubble. I wake up, have breakfast, kiss the wife and head to work, I work in a financial business, behind a desk and taking calls. When that's done I head back home to dinner waiting for m, shower and bed ready for the repeated cycle that is my boring life.

A few minor details I missed out which is what this beautiful story is about. I leave the house about Thirty minutes before I need to, the wife thought I was cheating at one point, Until I showed her my morning routine, pretty sure she cried when I first showed her. I leave a little earlier to stop by the local coffee shop, I love the smell of freshly cooked desserts, and roasting coffee beans that travel for miles down the street before I even reach the shop. I always get the same order, two breakfast rolls and Tall Lattes with a hazelnut flavouring added. Why do I get two? you may ask.

About four months ago I took a walk through the park in the centre of town and I came across a guy sleeping rough. The thought about sleeping rough and nowhere to live really upsets me, it pains me to see and if I could help everybody on the streets I would. Usually I'd just throw some change and move on, but this guy was different, he gave off a different vibe. He was new to the are obviously as I hadn't came across him before, but I could tell he'd been on the streets for a long time.

He has long greasy hair which was filled with dirt and twigs, The little skin I could see on his face looked tanned, but I knew it wasn't really a tan, The dirt and dust had embedded itself into his skin. One thing that I noticed about him, He never begged, he didn't have a sad story on a carboard cut out, he didn't make eye contact and didn't want attention. It made me think, what has he done to have this much realisation that he didn't want pity, he didn't want help? That's when curiosity got the best of me. The morning after I first seen him I started the routine that's became religious to me now, I bought him breakfast and a coffee, and talked to him.

When I talked to him I found out more than i really wanted, He's not short of stories but they are enough to make the strongest of men cry and feel useless. The one story that really set this routine in stone for me, He was a Navy seal vet. He served fourteen years as a navy seal, He had been on four tours of Iraq, Two tours of Bosnia, and finally a Tour of Afghanistan where his army career ended. He got injured on a tour of Afghanistan which caused him to lose almost all function ability in his left leg, He can still walk but very weak and very unbalanced. I asked how he ended up where he is now at this moment in time, and he replied 'The system'.

When he got injured he was quickly discharged from military service for his physical injuries, it did limit his quality of life and jobs, but he did work, he has had four jobs since the army, each of them decreasing in pay and respect. He bounced around jobs at no fault of his own, I mentioned the physical injuries, but nobody cared about the mental scars that the military left, and they cut deeper and made more of an impact than any physical scar could. He found it hard to hold down a job, the PTSD caused so much problems, the first loud noise and he's cower with fear, if somebody raised their voice or screamed he didn't have the social skills to deal with those situations, and that is why he's here, that is why he's on this park bench, covered in dirt, under a thin layer of blanket.

Since that conversation, He has been a fixed part of my life, every morning, he's even met my wife and told her stories, and of course she cries if I even mention his name, we are struggling as it is or wed have helped him out with a place, but it's not an easy time for us. Every morning I have breakfast and listen to another story, I leave him with 20 dollars to do with what he pleases, He has even rejected the money at times, but he's realised now that there's no point rejecting it. Sometimes when I finish work I see him with his hands full of brown grocery bags, most people would assume its alcohol or drugs but I know that he's eating, he's surviving. And I drive home with a smile on my face, until tonight, the snow was thick and deadly, and I catch a glimpse of him with his shopping, I still smiled but curiosity had got the best of me again so I follow from a distance.

I followed him for about sixty minutes before I felt my my whole body freeze up, Tears started streaming down my cheeks, almost freezing by how cold the air was. I followed him around the streets, and he would stop every hundred of feet, remove something from his bag, place it down and move on. This guy was going around the city with bags full of food from the change he's made throughout the day, and He's giving other homeless people food, sandwiches, bottles of water, I had never seen anything so selfless in my life. This man was a hero in the military, and even as a homeless guy with nothing he's making the same selfless sacrifice and giving what he has to others.

I did confront him, he smiled at me as I was struck with emotions, I didn't know how to deal with these emotions and he just laughed. I managed to weep out the word 'Why?'

He simple replied ' The world we live in is Beautiful, It is just full of ugly, god I'm ugly as hell right now, but I want to make a difference to people, show these people who have nothing that somebody always cares, I want to show them some beauty'.