A couple of weeks ago, I was at a local church and heard a story of a homeless child.
I decided to help.
I knew there was no one who could help me, but it wasn’t a choice.
I had no idea what to expect.
The young boy’s name is Elijah.
I thought he had a long road ahead of him.
It was hard for me to accept that he was not just an isolated kid.
My initial thought was that Elijah had a broken heart.
His parents had left him in a car accident in 2012, and he was still living in a tent in the woods.
He had been living on the streets for years.
But he was an energetic child, always smiling, always trying to get his friends to play.
I took him to a local grocery store and asked for his ID.
Elijah said he was in a hurry, and I gave him a few dollars.
I told him that if he needed a ride home, I would let him borrow the money.
I didn’t want to take the risk of losing him.
As I was driving, Elijah’s mom asked me what he needed.
I explained to her that I needed a little money for groceries, and she asked if I would help him.
I asked her if she would help her son.
I wanted to help Elijah get his life back on track, and to give him some financial security.
I told her that Elijah’s parents had decided to leave him in the car and that I wanted them to be reimbursed for their lost income.
I assured her that we would get Elijah home safe and sound, and that she and her son would be okay.
After a short conversation, she agreed to help me.
I helped Elijah get home, gave him some groceries, got him a ride, and drove him to the local Walmart.
We left the house that evening, and a couple of hours later, Elijah was driving me home.
I don’t know how he got home, but he was driving fast.
He was wearing a seatbelt, so I was worried about him.
He looked very much like a child.
He appeared to be under the age of five, but was wearing jeans and a T-shirt.
I could tell that he didn’t have a car seat belt.
At first, I didn