Revelations in the Park
by
Christopher Doss
(Age: 21)
copyright 11-29-2003
Age Rating: 7 to 127
I like to take a lunch to a nearby park and sit under a tree in the shade to eat. Not just any tree; this one is in a far corner away from the playground and not visited by many. It is a bit overgrown in this corner with bushes and I love to close my eyes and listen to the wind as it makes its way through the maze of leaves. It is very soothing music that helps to calm me when things are feeling out of control. I eat in peace and think about many things, or just try to not think at all.
On this particular afternoon I was feeling very sorry for myself. I felt that I really didn't belong anyplace (A feeling I have fought for some time now), and that I would give anything to have a home where I was truly wanted and not just put up with out of a sense of obligation. These types of feelings can consume you and distort reality. It is easy to let yourself be taken in and washed away as if your are fighting a very strong current in a raging river. On this afternoon however, something happened.
As I sat there, simmering in my anger, a man wandered into my view. He appeared to be somewhere around fifty or so in age, although it is very hard to determine age a lot of the time. His clothes were dirty and rather ragged looking. I noticed one of the shoes he was wearing looked as though his toes would be coming through at any given moment. He had a pack on his back, one that looked as if it might belong to an elementary age school child with a cartoon character of some sort on it. The pack was dirty and had definitely been well used. It was so full it was bulging, almost rounded. Even though it was very warm he wore a winter coat. It too, was dirty and the pockets had been torn off.
I watched as he drew nearer and nearer. I was getting a bit nervous and was getting ready to leave when he spotted me. He stopped short, obviously surprised to see me sitting there. We stared at each other in silence for a few seconds then he walked to a nearby tree across from me and sat down. I knew I should leave but something held me there and I tried to watch him without blatantly staring and being rude.
He removed the pack and opened it. As he rummaged through it he started muttering something as if becoming irritated at not finding what he wanted. I was startled as he suddenly laughed and looked to the side, staring into the bushes. He then started talking and laughing as if carrying on a conversation with someone who remained invisible to me. I strained to hear the words, but they seemed to be garbled or in a language foreign to me. After a few minutes of this he went back to looking in the pack. At this point my imagination took over and I tried to decide what it was he was searching for. I couldn't imagine what all could be in there. Perhaps some clothes and some food, but what else? He hummed cheerfully as he looked. This went on for some time and I was just about to slip away when he yelped in triumph! I froze in place, almost dreading what I might see come out of that pack. Very gently, almost lovingly, he pulled a book from the pack. It was a large, thick book and I strained to see the title but he was too far away. He settled back against the tree and turned to his invisible friend once more, gesturing for his guest to sit and join him. He then opened the book and began reading to this friend whom I couldn't see.
I suddenly felt I was intruding on something very personal, so I gathered my things and quietly walked away. On the way home I was filled with an overwhelming sadness for the man. I felt I should have done something, but what could I do? As I thought about it the sorrow turned to fear. That could be me at some point. That thought terrified me. So many harsh things happen in life and you never know what the future holds, not really. We can try to control our "destiny" but how much control do we really have? How much is our choice?
Something like this has a way of pushing self-pity out of your mind. Being shipped from one relative to another is difficult, but to live completely alone with only an imaginary friend for comfort is so much worse. Maybe this poor man was sent to me to show me how lucky I really am.
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Wow!
A truly toucjing story!
Sometimes when I'm going through something tough, something happens that makes me really appreciate how lucky I am.
I huees I'm not the only one that this happens to.
Great write.
Question, "Being shipped from one relative to another is difficult, but to live completely alone with only an imaginary friend for comfort is so much worse." Why is that so much worse? You said in your story that the man was happy. Isn't the goal of life to be happy in the end? I don't pity the man at all, in fact, I kind of admire him. For someone who can so easily be labeled as a 'society reject' he found his own happiness, and doesn't care what others think at all! Children have imaginary friends, and I find that so cool because they learn to love and share even with all the pain and negative influences around them. Who knows, maybe if you did try to help him, he might have taught you something instead? Just wanted to bring up another point of view. Anyways, great story! ^-^
oh and now I see how this isrevelations inthe park, maybe thisman was a sign to you, remember that it was most likely a signfromgod or a chance that this man hadof rejoining our modern lifewithout the troubles and dangers of the homeless and it be a chance given tohim by god,how do you know that this wasn't his only chance?
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one minor problem andthat isthat you did nothing for the man, I know I'm only fourteen and there is little chance of meeting someone like this man and his imaginitive friend in jacksonville I still think that I would haveasked him to be myfriend if Ihad truelly been without a friend as you say you were, I hope you do meet again and that you do talk tohim and you do help him.
0==(::::Tasbain::::>
A universal message Chris. I love this story. How have I been missing your stories. Please take my Story challenge in workshop. I really want to see how you would finish my story. It is called Santa of Unselfish Wishes and is posted in story workshop. I am off to read your other stories.
Amazing work, chris. And so true. Often have I thought this question...and often have I feared ending up alone, reading to someone who doesn't exist...
Excellent work! One only episode makes us thinking so deeply.
Sometimes a person feels that he is absolutely alone. He thinks his life is saddest and darkest. He lives among his problems and sad thoughts and does not see how many nice things he has around him and inside. In real he has the only picture of a close friend, a small piece of beach to sit and think there, a rain behind the window to hear all sounds of raindrops on the roof....
When we really take a good look around, we are surrounded by nice people and things. There are many unseen “friends” inside each of us. We can be thankful to many things outside and inside. You show that wonderfully, Chris! Your writing becomes better and better. I went with all your thoughts when I read every line. You give a food for my thinking and for my feelings. That is what I want to see in a story or poem. You hear your heart. Your thoughts are waked, and it is the best thing in the world!
Keep your writing and stay my friend, Chris!
Irina.
Well done, you took me to your world, let me look at what you saw, and felt, captured my mind, left me with many questions, and wanting more answers, both about you and the man. I hope you visit both again.
Walt
This is something that happened during the summer, but I thought it might fit into the Thanksgiving theme of "being thankful." Something I need to do more often.
Welcome !
