The rain poured relentlessly over the pavement, forming tiny streams that rushed toward the gutters. From inside my car, with the heater humming and soft music playing, I spotted a small figure on the corner. A girl, no older than eight, clutched a bunch of wilted flowers while the water soaked through her thin jacket.
Something stirred in my chest. I turned off the engine.
“Excuse me, sir! Would you like flowers for your wife?” she called out as I approached, her voice barely audible over the rain. “Theyre lovely, and Ill give you a good price.”
Without hesitation, I took off my coat and draped it over her shoulders. It swallowed her small frame, but at least it kept her dry.
“Here,” I said, handing her my umbrella. “Youll catch your death out here.”
Her eyes widened like saucers, stunned by the gesture.
“No, sir, I cant take this. Mum told me not to accept things from strangers.”
“Your mums right, but this isnt a gift. Its a loan while you work,” I lied with a smile. “How many flowers do you have?”
She counted quickly, her lips moving in silence.
“Twenty bunches, sir. Five pounds each, but Ill do them for four since the rains knocked them about a bit.”
I pulled out my wallet and handed her eighty pounds.
“Ill take the lot.”
“All of them?” she gasped. “But sir, what will you do with so many?”
“Ill give them to anyone passing by. Spread a little cheer, wont I?”
A shy smile brightened her rain-streaked face.
“Really? Youre ever so kind! Mum wont believe it.”
“Where is your mum?” I asked, gathering the flowers.
“At home, looking after my little brother. Hes poorly. Thats why Im outso she doesnt have to get wet.”
My heart clenched. This tiny girl was out in the storm, trying to keep her family afloat.
“You know what? Keep the coat and umbrella. I dont need them.”
“But, sir”
“No buts. Now get home quick, before your mum worries.”
She nodded, pressed the notes to her chest, and dashed offthen paused and turned back.
“Thank you, sir! God bless you!”
I watched her disappear around the corner, sheltered beneath my red umbrella, then trudged back to my car, soaked to the bone but lighter than Id felt in years.
As I cranked the heat and dried my hair with a towel from the back seat, I couldnt help but grin. The twenty bunches of flowers filled the car with colour and hope, their sweet scent lingering in the air.
That afternoon, I handed out every last bloomto the woman at the traffic lights, the security guard, the girl waiting for the bus, anyone who crossed my path. Each smile I got in return reminded me Id done the right thing.
Sometimes, in the rain, you find the perfect chance to be the light someone else needs.
A note for my readers:
Thanks for sticking with me. I write and share these stories for free because I know what its like to have nothing and still need a tale that feels like a hug.
Some days, Im not sure I can keep going. Im a mum, a writer, and Im tired. So tired. But I carry on because writings the one thing that still saves me, just a little.
If you ever fancy supporting mewith a cuppa, a kind word, anythingId be grateful from the bottom of my heart. I havent got much, but Ive got this. And I give it all.
Thanks for not leaving me alone.
