An Act of Kindness

Helene Cooper 3/27/13 A teen Random Act of Kindness As a teenager not galore(postnominal) held much hope for my future. I was ceaselessly in trouble cutting school, fighting, drink alcohol and just had an outright direful attitude towards anyone that attempted to set me straight. at that place were patchy reasons behind my anger that this root doesnt warrant going very(prenominal) deep into. I knew right from vituperate and I also knew that I wasnt a severeness person.That being said, I found myself suspended from school for 20 mean solar days after a pretty brutal fight. Being that my suspension was so long I was required to incline the Option Center in Lawrenceville for my tenderness classes. My mornings now required me to take a bus from Mt. Washington to Downtown and some separate to Lawrenceville. My afternoons just worked in reverse. My father (who I hadnt lived with since the age of three) now warmth for me, gave me money to get lunch on a daily basis.After my second day was over and I arrived Downtown, I was introduction McDonalds when I noticed an received-enough(a) homeless piece sitting with his pass over. What do him seem so different to me from the other homeless people that I had encountered was that he looked happy. This both caught my curiosity as well(p) as composite me. A man so seemingly content with having what I thought was nothing. The third day was the like. The same the elderly man covered in dirt with his little dog with plane hair that matched his masters, sitting in the lie taking in the warmth.As I exited McDonalds I handed the man my lunch. He accepted it with gratuity on his face and I continued my walk to my attached bus stop. After walkway closely a half of a finish I heard a peevish voice yell Hey I off to find the old man walking very fast after me with his dog in hand and holding the forage and drink I had just give him. Being a fifteen course of study old girl, alone Downtown, I was a li ttle startled to say the least. I began walking faster toward my destination when the man caught up to me.The man, very winded at this point, had one simple question for me. Is this protactiniumulardiet? I looked at him confused when he went on to explain that he was diabetic. At this point I felt both a little bad and silly at the same prison term for making this poor man sound after me for such an innocent question. The pop was not, in fact, diet. He thanked me and handed it venture to me. I saw this man, whose name was Charlie, every day during my suspension and every day I gave him my lunch, always making sure the pop was diet.