The old man was sitting on his front porch swing
When a cute, little girl on the sidewalk said hi.
She reminded him of his own child, years ago,
So much so it brought a happy tear to his eye.
He had seen the girl before and knew who she was.
She lived in the house where the yelling came from.
He tried not to judge but he had always worked hard
And from what he'd seen, he knew her dad was a bum.
He said, "Hello there, sweetness! What's your name?"
"My name is Cindy," she answered with a shy smile.
The old man said, "I've got something for you, Cindy.
Don't go away. I'm old and it may take me a while."
The old man went into a bedroom, carefully preserved.
It had belonged to his own daughter way back when.
On the bed, there was a ragdoll in a colorful dress.
It was her constant companion and very best friend.
But the world was too hard for his little girl to live in.
She got lost after leaving the peace and safety of home.
In a haze of drugs, her troubled life ended too early,
Leaving her father and mother to face life all alone.
They were both crushed, but her mother never recovered
And she died soon afterward, perhaps hoping to find her,
But not as the sad, tortured soul that she had become,
As the innocent child dragging the ragdoll behind her.
The old man had been alone for many, many lonesome years.
He said to the doll, "It's time that you were loved again.
Dolls like you were made for girls like Cindy to cuddle
And you've been in this dusty room too long, old friend."
So he picked up the doll and walked back downstairs.
Cindy was drawing a rainbow on the sidewalk in chalk.
Kneeling, the old man said, "I have something for you.
You can take her with you next time you go for a walk."
He handed her the doll and her sad eyes opened wide.
She took it with both hands and held it up to her face.
Then she looked at it again and stroked its yarn hair,
Mesmerized by the colors and intricacy of the lace.
The old man was wise indeed to give the old doll to Cindy
For she was rarely given presents and she needed a friend.
She thanked him and he said, "You're welcome, sweetheart."
Then she threw her arms around him and thanked him again.
It was then that her father finally noticed she was missing.
He crashed through the front door and yelled out her name.
He saw her down the street being hugged by the old man.
His own mind was ugly, so everything else was the same.
He yelled, "Get your hands off her, you dirty, old man!"
As he stormed down the sidewalk with hate in his eyes.
It didn't matter to him that he was fifty years younger
Or that the old man was only about half of his size.
The only thing perverted was his own imagination.
He was a product of this graceless, corrupted age.
He was also infected with the disease of "machismo"
So the only emotion available to him was blind rage.
Again, he yelled, "Get away from her, you son of a bitch!"
The old man and Cindy looked over, scared and confused.
"Yeah, you!" he screamed, "Get your hands off my daughter!"
The old man still wasn't sure of what he was being accused.
He yanked her away, wrenching her delicate arm.
"But, daddy!" she pleaded, "He only gave me a doll!"
She too couldn't understand why he was so angry.
Then he hit the old man and she watched him fall.
"That'll teach you, you old pervert!" he bellowed,
Then he stormed off for home, hoping nobody saw.
He dragged Cindy along and she dragged her doll
But his only true concern was avoiding the law.
At home, Cindy ran straight to the side window
And saw the old man lying still on the ground.
Then two police cars and an ambulance arrived
And some of the neighbors gathered around.
She cried, hoping to see her friend stand up again.
Her father yelled "Quiet!", but with fear in his eyes.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
The police took him away amid her mother's cries.
She looked over again and smiled through her tears
As she saw her friend talking to the ambulance men.
He smiled when he saw her sweet face at the window,
More worried about the wounds she'd have to mend.
The police came back to the house a few hours later
To investigate marks they'd noticed on Cindy's skin.
She was taken away and sent to a new, loving home
Where life could be all it was supposed to have been.
Her new parents bought her all that they could afford.
Cindy never wanted for anything again, nothing at all,
But no matter how glorious her new playthings were,
She would never let go of that old, tattered ragdoll.
The old man slowly became a distant, faded memory
And his kind act, a graceful moment in troubled years,
But neither of them knew that one act of generosity
Would put an end to all of her troubles and fears.
When she was old enough to drive, she returned again
To the street where she had cried for so long in vain.
Her parents' house was as ugly as her memories were
But forgiveness was still buried beneath her pain.
So she drove past it and stopped at the old man's house.
It was just as warm and welcoming as it was years before.
She said to the old ragdoll, "We have someone to visit",
Then walked through the garden and knocked on the door.
It had been ten years, so he was a little bit grayer
But his smile was still warm and his eyes still kind.
She said, "Remember me? It's been a very long time",
Holding the doll behind her to play with his mind.
He said, "I'm sorry. I lost my glasses a few days ago
And my eyesight is going. I'm ninety-three, after all."
She said, "Oh, please forgive me. I'll give you a clue."
Then she gently placed in his hands the old ragdoll.
He held the doll, not quite sure what was happening,
Then a broad smile spread across his grand, old face.
"Cindy! Oh, my goodness! How on earth have you been?
Come in and bring some life to this dusty, old place!"
They talked all day and all evening about all sorts of things.
She thanked him again and said he was her first, best friend.
When she left, the old man, the girl and the ragdoll embraced
And from then on, the three of them were never alone again.
"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted."
Adding your comment:
x take care x
. I do know that my initial reaction would be one of mistrust and worry as to what he was up to. I am glad to see that the twist you put on this that justice was served in the way that the real culprit [her father] was brought to justice.......how great a world it would be if that would always be the case [ the well intentioned not be judged and the guilty exposed]. Thank you for giving this such a happy ending,
