Your True Tales
January 2006 – Page 15

The Begger Angel
by Gary Jones

I took my children and their cousin to an Atlanta Thrasher hockey game when the Thrashers first came into existence. After the game was over, we ran into an older black man with gray hair, leaning on a home made crutch, pandhandling for money with a styrofoam cup outside the arena. Not particularly fond of beggars, I determined to pass him and not to give him any money, but he had a gleam in his eye and was persistent.

All I had in my wallet was a crumpled old five dollar bill, which I wanted to keep because I had a headache and wanted to buy some aspirin later at the drugstore. Moved for some odd reason, I reached in my wallet and gave him the five dollar bill (all the money I had). The children saw this and we walked away.

After walking about 50 feet, I had the urge to stop and look around. The old black man was looking at me and leaning on his crutch. Then he raised the styrofoam cup, as if in a toasting gesture, and gave me a wide, warm smile. I felt a strange sensation, but thought nothing more about it.

Thirty minutes later, I stopped in a drug store to buy some aspirin with my credit card. As I walked down the isle, I passed the magazine rack. I froze in amazement. There on the top rack in front of the magazines was an old crumpled up five dollar bill –, appearing to be the very same one I had given the old black man earlier. When I got back in the car, the children were amazed when I showed them the five dollar bill. I have been back to many Thrasher games since then, but I never saw the crippled old black man again.

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