A month passed. Winter had enveloped the city in a blanket of freezing cold, bringing temperatures that turned his breath to mist and his fingers to numbness.
Ethan continued his quiet morning walks to the park, leaving as much behind as he could.
He gave them blankets, food, hand warmers, and even a small teddy bear for a homeless woman who had cried when she found him.
One morning, something strange happened. The blankets Ethan had left behind the night before were gone, but in their place lay a folded sheet, weighed down by a smooth, gray rock.
With trembling hands, Ethan picked it up and read the words written on it.
“Thank you, whoever you are. You are a gift from heaven.”
Suddenly tears welled up in his eyes.
He hadn’t heard such words in years. No one had thanked him for working three jobs and holding his family together with duct tape and hope. No one noticed the sacrifices he made every day.
But someone did.
Still, life continued to crush him. Two days later, his landlord, a man as compassionate as a concrete block, taped an eviction notice to Ethan’s apartment door. The tape creaked as Ethan pulled it off, and his hands shook as he read the bold letters.
“You’re two months behind on your rent. You have one week to pay it in full or move out.” One week. Seven days to pay the $2,000 he didn’t have.
