The Elfin Blog

So I was just over at my mom’s house helping get her poor negelected car started. As I opened the front door to leave I witnessed, standing before me at the foot of the steps to my mother’s porch, a young man of about nineteen. He was dressed in a teal hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up and he had a patchy wannabe mustache. The kind a boy of eighteen or nineteen would grow. He looked a little cold, wet, and slightly miserable. Upon sighting me he asked, “Did you just say you have no emotions?”

I paused a moment. My mother was coming to the door and my immediate concern was for her safety should this poor soul become violent. I held the storm door closed so she would not be able to come out and agitate the boy. My mother can agitate just about anyone. “Who’s there? What’s going on,” came her questioning old lady voice through the door.

I addressed the lad before me. “No,” I said, “I didn’t say that.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “I’m just have a hard time.” And with a final “Sorry,” he walked away into the rainy night.

I went back inside for a few moments to ensure my mother’s safety and to observe that the young man had left for good. My mom was upset, saying things like, “Oh that’s so sad. It’s our Christian duty to help him. He’s lost.”

“Mom,” I said, “he’s fucking crazy. What are we supposed to do?”

On the way home though, I wondered if I acted as a good person should have. I mean protecting my mom from harm is one thing, but could I have done more to help this poor guy? I prayed that he would find a dry place tonight, and perhaps some peace of mind. At least one of those things would be nice. I guess I really couldn’t have done anything for him, but I could have asked.

So, badly dressed crazy guy, wherever you are, I hope you find some peace and a dry place of comfort on this cold January night. And I do, in fact, have emotions.