It was Friday afternoon and I was heading home after hours of studying Economics in the library. Cold gusts of wind slapped my cheeks as I waited at the bus stand. After waiting for an eternity that was adjusted into ten minutes I decided to walk home. Thoughts of coffee and a warm bed crept unwillingly into my mind as I fought my way across the mushy ankle deep snow.
After trudging for another fifteen minutes I reached the building where I lived. I heaved a sigh of relief as I looked around. It began to snow again. The cold seemed to have made its way through my clothes and into my bones. As I made my way to the main door of my building I spotted a pile of shabby clothes next to a wall. It was only when I was within two feet of the pile that I realized that amid the dreary clothes was a homeless man with a salt and pepper beard and deep wrinkles. He looked none the worse for wear so I asked him if he would like some coffee. He slightly nodded his head.
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He seemed to have fallen asleep with an old woolen cap covering his eyes. I gently nudged him but he didn’t open his eyes. I shook him a bit harder but he still did not respond. His heaving chest reassured me that he was breathing and alive. However, he could’ve suffered from a heart attack for all I knew. Passersby kept walking by as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Realizing that I had to do something I called for an ambulance.
Within minutes the wailing siren of an ambulance pierced the air. The efficient paramedic staff jumped out and quickly gauged the situation. The homeless man was strapped onto a stretcher and soon on his way to the nearest hospital. It later turned out that he had suffered from hypothermia from being out in the cold all day and having almost nothing to eat. The doctors told me that I had helped save a man’s life who had been ignored by so many others who had walked past him since morning. I felt a warm glow of satisfaction as my conscience patted me on the back.