Snowy Streets: A Tale of Despair and Redemption

After failing my English exam, I was completely broken and destroyed. I did not want to return home early to show my weaknesses, so I decided to walk along the winter streets of New York. That winter was too generous for snow: trees like mysterious white giants leaning their fingers towards passers-by and endless crowded roads were covered with snow slowly falling from the sky. The air seemed simultaneously filled with the fragrance of life and calmness, but I had no relief. Certainly, the entire picture might have a soothing effect on anyone except me, who was lost among millions of strangers.

The feeling of despair and solitude overwhelmed my heart—the heart of a wounded bird that could not fly anymore. Gradually, it was getting dark, and I came back home to feel the warmth of my house, which might embrace me as usual. I bounced into the house, kissed my mother, and nervously shook my father’s hand, trying to hide my emotions. Even though it was quite cold outside, I did not intend to stay home and asked my father to drive his car.

Driving the car, I started dreaming about summer, the taste of strawberries, and my granny’s cookies with cream. Sitting alone in silence far away from my worries, I admired a picturesque winter landscape; it captured my breath. I do not remember stopping and leaving the car, but I forgot to close it. Later, I discovered that the key was in my left pocket. I went to the supermarket and bought a large pack of chips that had to comfort me somehow. Who cares about health when you are a teenager? Nothing matters than the inner desires and instincts that master and control your actions.

Crossing the street, I hardly believed that someone was inside my car; moreover, it was a small boy. “What an impudent fellow!” I thought.

I was rushing towards him. What I saw was his back. I began to shout to attract anyone’s attention but the noise of the street turned my cry into distant sounds of the wind. Then, I realized that I took only some money and the rest left in the wallet on the front seat. I knew he would steal it for sure.

“Hey, man!” I shouted with an uncontrollable anger. “I will kill you, believe me.” “Do not touch anything.”

When the boy noticed me, he ran away. I recognized his large cap; it was familiar, but I had no time to concentrate. Being too fast, the boy resembled the whirl as I could not reach him. The snow blew directly into my face, and a relentless wind splashed my face with some mockery. The pavement became so icy that I started thinking I was skating on the rink. Unexpectedly, a small thief fell on the ground; he hid his face and did not want to show it.

“Ah, I see... You are very brave and cool now,” I said in a loud voice and touched his cap.

“Leave me alone,” the boy said softly and started crying.

I was in a state of shock…I recognized the boy: my neighbor, a ten-year-old child from a good family.

“Jimmy, how could you dare?” I said, pointing out the wallet he kept firmly in his hands.

The only words he replied were, “It is not for me... I just wanted to feed Jack…a homeless dog.”

Then, I saw icy tears of a kind child whose intentions had nothing in common with my ideas. I certainly gave Jimmy all the money I had, fed the dog with the boy, gave him a lift, and returned home with bitter joy.