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People do not occur by chance
We Website infinite value every similar story about kindness and humanity, repentance and faith in a brighter future.
Edu ... I'm in the train Moscow-Petushki. Beginning with the homeless Kursk railway station. The bruise bruise. Muzzle swollen. In view of thirty years.
Looking around, he begins:
- Citizens, gentlemen, have not eaten for three days. Honestly. Stealing afraid, because there is no power to escape. And there are very desirable. Apply, much as you can. On the face, do not look, I drink. And what you give, probably, too propyl! - And went on the car.
Our people are good - quickly distribute the homeless five hundred rubles.
At the end of the car bum he stopped, turned to face the passengers, bowed legs.
- Thank you, gentlemen, citizens. Give you all, God!
And suddenly sitting at the window last spiteful kind of guy, something like a breeder Lysenko, only with glasses, suddenly zaoret a bum.
- Scum, nit, begging. Money ask. And I can, nothing to feed the family. And I can, fired the day before. But I'm not asking you, scum.
Homeless suddenly pulls out all his pockets all that he has, two thousand, perhaps a trifle different pieces of paper, and extends to the peasant.
- Here, take it. You should.
- What? - Fonareet man.
- Take it! You need! And I still will. People are good! - Puts the money into the hands of a peasant, turns, opens the door and walks into the lobby.
- Hey, wait! - Jumps up and a man with money in the hands of runs for the homeless in the vestibule.
The whole car, not saying a word, silent. For five minutes we all listened carefully to the dialogue in the vestibule. A man shouted that the people - the bad. Homeless assured that people are kind and lovely. A man tried to return the money to the homeless, but he did not take back the money. Ended up that bum went on, and the man was alone. He was in no hurry to return. He lit a cigarette.
The train stopped at the next station. They went out and got the passengers.
A man, finished his cigarette, too, went back into the car and sat down on his seat by the window.
On it no one really paid any attention. The car was already living their normal lives.
The train suddenly stops. Someone left, someone had entered.
We drove five stops. For my station. I got up and went to the exit.
Passing the guy, I gave him a quick look. A man sat, turning away to the window and cried.
The author sketches: Michael Fatah
Photos in the preview: lamcdn
via lamcdn.net/the-village.ru/post_image-image/ad5IFOvyNAw4rNJqRbcV3w.jpg
