I HELPED A HOMELESS MAN FIX HIS SHOES OUTSIDE A CHURCH — 10 YEARS LATER, A POLICEMAN CAME TO MY HOUSE WITH HIS PHOTO
It was bitterly cold, the kind that seeped into your bones. I had just finished my errands when I decided to step into the church for a moment of reflection. That’s when I saw him—sitting on the church steps, hatless, his hands trembling as he struggled to fix his falling-apart shoes.
I couldn’t walk past. Something about him struck a chord.
“Let me help you,” I said, crouching beside him. He looked up, his tired, bloodshot eyes meeting mine—still holding a spark of hope. I fastened his shoes, wrapped my scarf around his shoulders, and brought him hot soup and tea from a nearby café.
“Here,” I said, handing him the food. I scribbled my address on a scrap of paper. “If you ever need a place or someone to talk to, reach out.”
He nodded, silent. I walked away, thinking I probably would never see him again.
Ten years passed. Life was ordinary—work, friends, family, routines. One evening, as I sat at home sipping tea, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, a policeman stood before me holding the photograph of the homeless man I’d helped on those church steps a decade earlier.
Six-year-old Leland Shoemake was an ordinary child from Williamson, Georgia.
He left a lasting impression on everyone he came into contact with with his bright disposition, sharp mind, and inventiveness.
By the time he was a year old, he was familiar with his ABCs, numbers, colors, shapes, and twenty sight words. We adored the fact that he was our little nerd. He enjoyed learning and going to school. His mother, Amber Shoemake, posted on social media that her son adored documentaries, the weather channel, the history channel, and anything related to history.
“I never thought that would be what would take him away from me.”
