Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, lives an old man who seems strange, even weird, in many ways. His neighbors avoid him, and if they happen to pass him on the street, they glance the other way.

There’s something about him that doesn’t seem quite right. His eyes are violet, but the whites of his eyes are yellow. His skin is tinted ever so slightly green, not unlike pea soup. What is left of his hair is stringy and hangs down to the middle of his scrawny back. He smells and looks as if it hasn’t washed in a decade or more.

He’s bent over at his waist and has to turn his head from side to side to cross the street. His pants are big and baggy. He wears suspenders and a belt. The waist of his pants is hiked up under his armpits. His ankles are exposed, and you can see he is covered in a fine black, curly down. He wears sandals all year round, and his toenails are long and curl under his toes. They make a clicking sound as he shuffles down the street.

Traffic seems to slow down as passengers in their cars stare out their car windows at him. A driver in a convertible is so distracted that he nearly crashes into the Chevy truck ahead of him. When he doesn’t notice the traffic light turning red. The old man slowly turns his head in the direction of the screeching car and shakes his finger at the driver.

He continues to walk slowly forward. Ignoring the stares and the ugly names that are shouted at him. Life hasn’t given him an easy road to travel. But he perseveres.

He’s midway between the street and the sidewalk when he hears a car screeching and tires squealing. He tries to look up, but he reacts. He’s too slowly. And then he feels an enormous weight hit him and propels him into the air, and then nothing.

He feels as if he is floating. Someone is whispering to him. It seems as if it’s from a tremendous distance. He can’t quite make it out. He feels so weary. He thinks one last thought. Perhaps he’ll finally be able to lay down this burden that life has given him. He closes his eyes. And darkness, then silence follows.

From out of nowhere, he hears a voice, “Gerard Tippin, can you hear me? If you can hear me, nod your head or blink your eyes.”

Gerard slowly opens up his eyes and blinks. “Gerard, I’m going to shine a light in your eyes. It will be quite bright. Try to hold still.”

Gerard holds his head as steady as he’s able. A bright light shines in one eye and then the other.

“Can you see that, Gerard?”

Gerard tries to answer, but his throat feels dry and scratchy. He clears his throat.

“Gerard, you had a tube down your throat, and that’s why it hurts. I’m going to hand you a glass of water with a straw. Try to drink a little, and it will help.”

“Gerard, I’m Dr. Drachman. I’ve been taking care of you since you were admitted. You were hit by a car when you were trying to cross the street. We would like to keep you here for a couple of days. You have a mild concussion and some bumps and bruises. Overall, I think you were lucky you didn’t sustain any serious injuries.

However, in general, it appears as if you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself. Your skin tone is unusual, but we couldn’t find any obvious reason for it. The yellow in the whites of your eyes is concerning. We are running some tests on that. It looks like you have curvature of the spine or osteoporosis. We are going to get a physical therapist to assess you, which might help. Do you have any relatives or friends that we can contact? We feel your recovery will improve if you are able to stay with family or friends.”

Gerard clears his throat and states matter of factly, “family or friends, no. I don’t have nobody. I live alone in a room I rent in a boarding house. I get one meal a day there. I live on a small disability check. I’m not good at making friends.

“Well, I believe we can help you out. There are services that are available to people in need. Perhaps we can find better accommodations for you. Have you ever considered shared housing?”

“Shared housing? Well, like I said, I live in a boarding home. Of course, people don’t stay there too long. Some of the people that stay there just got out of jail. Some people are junkies. And then there are the down and outers like me. But most people think I‘m one of a kind. And keep a distance from me. I guess I’m kind of weird. At least that’s what I have been told most of my life. That I’m a weirdo.”

“Gerard, you are unique. That’s true. But we are all unique in one way or another. Let’s try to get you feeling better, eating better, and see about getting you in a better place. We’ll talk again soon. Some nice people are going to come and talk to you about helping you with your needs. This accident may turn out to be a happy accident, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know what to say, doc. Thanks. Nobody ever tried to help me ever. I grew up in foster care. My parents didn’t want me. When I turned eighteen, I was on my own. I didn’t do too good in school. I took any job I could find most of my life. And here I am.”

“I’ll see you soon, Gerard. It has been quite an experience meeting you. I’ll check on you tomorrow. Take it easy.”

A few minutes later, an orderly came into Gerard’s room with a food tray. “Hello, Mr. Gerard. I’m Joseph, and I’ll be bringing you your meals while you’re here. Tonight, we are serving meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and string beans with rice pudding for dessert. Also, I have left a paper on the tray where you can write down a  request if you have any. And inform the kitchen staff if you have any food that you don’t want or are not supposed to eat. I’ll take that information to the kitchen staff if you leave it on your tray. Enjoy, Mr. Gerard. I’ll see you later.” The orderly walks silently out of  Gerard’s room.

Gerard looks at the tray and suddenly realizes that he’s starving. His stomach is growling. Long ago, he learned to ignore that feeling and the sound that comes with it. Since he rarely eats more than once a day. He reaches for the tray and touches it to make sure it’s real. He pulls the tray toward him and breathes deeply. And then picks up the fork and takes a bite of the meatloaf. The smell, the texture are overwhelming, and Gerard feels a tear roll down his cheek. He smiles and begins eating like there won’t be a tomorrow and this is his last meal. When he finishes, he sighs and pushes the tray back, and falls fast asleep.

When Gerard wakes up and looks around, he doesn’t immediately remember where he is and what’s happening. His head hurts, and he’s sore all over, and then it all comes back to him. Trying to cross the street and being hit by a car and then nothing.

“Maybe I’m in heaven?” And then he laughs to himself. He glances around the room he sees an empty bed. And beyond that, a window. He can’t see much more since he hasn’t been able to buy glasses in many years. His close-up vision isn’t much better.

Later that day, a young man comes into Gerard’s room and walks over to his bed. He takes the chart at the end of the bed and studies it. Then he clears his throat and says,” Mr. Tippin, Mr. Tippin, are you awake? I would like to talk to you for a few moments.” He clears his throat again.

Gerard slowly opens his eyes and sees a tall young man in scrubs standing next to his bed. He rubs his eyes. “Yes, I’m Gerard.”

I’m a physical therapist here at the hospital. My name is Donald Abraham. And I’m your doctor, and I have been discussing the type of physical therapy that would benefit you the most. We’ve decided that a combination of treatments would be the most beneficial. I’m talking about massage, hot tubs, muscle stimulation, and in the beginning low, impact exercise. I would like to start this afternoon. How do you feel about that?”

“Well, I have trouble walking because of my feet.”

“I think you will see that we have already addressed that issue, Gerard. Allow me to show you.”

The therapist lifts the sheet and blanket off of Gerard’s legs. Gerard looks down at his legs, then his feet, and is shocked. He hasn’t been able to cut his toenails for years because of his back and his vision. He looks closely at his feet and sees normal feet with normal toenails. Gerard looks at the therapist and says, “that’s amazing. I hardly recognize my own feet. I’ll be able to wear real shoes again, and my feet won’t be freezing all winter. Thank you so much. He smiles from ear to ear. Thank you.”

The next morning a woman is standing at Gerard’s bedside when he wakes up. “Good Morning Mr. Tippin. My name is Elaine Marshall. I’m a patient advocate at the hospital. I had a conversation with Dr. Drachman, and he related to me some of the challenges you are currently facing. I‘ve been talking to our local Social Service offices, and they are looking for some home-sharing possibilities for you. I understand you get Disability. Do you get any other assistance?”

“Assistance? Oh, you mean money?”

“Yes, financial assistance. For instance, have you ever served in the military?”

“Yes, but only for a few years. I was getting some money because I was injured in Viet Nam. But I had to move so many times over the years. And they lost track of where I was located, and then for a few years, I lived on the street.”

“I see. Well, I tell you what, I’m going to leave these papers with you to fill out. This will include your Social Security number. I’ll be better able to get help from the VA with that. Can you fill these papers for me?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t really read anymore since I lost my glasses long ago. I told the doctor about that. And I can’t really see far away either.”

“Well. That’s something I can help you with too Gerard. I’ll arrange for you to have your eyes tested and see if we can’t get you some new glasses before you’re discharged. In the meantime, I’ll read you the questions, and you can supply me with the information.”

“Really, I would love to be able to read again, and I used to read all the time. Thank you again.”

“Oh, Gerard, I also wanted to let you know that a physical therapy team is going to start working on your back issues this afternoon. Let’s get started with the paperwork. I’ll type it in on my laptop here and then print out copies for you and then forward the paperwork. Question one is do you have any living relatives that we can contact about your situation?”

“I don’t know. After I came back from Viet Nam, I was injured. And I was really messed up. I started drinking. For a long time, I was able to keep working, but later it got worse, and I got fired from one job after another. It was my fault. I guess, half the time, I didn’t show up, or I showed up hungover or still drunk. I kept getting fired. I moved from one place to another sometimes, I didn’t have any place to sleep. So, I slept outside. I lost touch with my family. I grew up in twenty different foster homes. My family might all be dead. I don’t know. They probably think I died a long time ago.”

“I remember the names and addresses from long ago. But that’s about it.”

“Alright, let’s get started.”

An hour later, she finishes up the paperwork and closes her laptop. She feels today is going to be a good day for her because she knows that she will be able to make a big difference in this particular man’s life. She smiles and pulls the sheet and blankets up to Mr. Tippin’s chin. And tip-toes out of the room.

Later that day, Gerard is once again sleeping and realizes someone else is speaking to him. Gerard hasn’t talked to so many people in one day in decades. He feels a little overwhelmed. “Hello Gerard, my name is Samantha Cummings. I’m one of the therapists that will be working with you. Do you think that you can get out of bed by yourself?

Gerard looks at her and feels immediately embarrassed. Standing before him was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She had beautiful red hair with gold highlights. It’s pulled back in a ponytail that hangs down her slender back. Her eyes are green. Gerard always had a weakness for redheads. He stares at her and says, “I don’t know. I haven’t been out of bed since I woke up from the car accident.”

“In that case, allow me to help you to get out of bed and over to the wheelchair next to the bed. And then I’ll take you to your first therapy session. Ok, if you can try to sit up, I’ll assist you. That’s right, try to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Now, the hard part. I’m going to stand next to you and guide you to the wheelchair. Don’t worry, and the wheelchair won’t move. The brake is on. And then we’ll be on our way”.

“Excellent, Gerard, you did wonderfully. And now I’ll take you to the rehab. We’ll have to take the elevator to the second floor, and we will be just about there.”

As Gerard and the therapist get onto the elevator, four people come up to the elevator door, and the therapist holds back the elevator door for them. Gerard is so afraid that one of them or all of them will start laughing at him or calling him names. He hangs his head down low. Hoping that no one will notice him.

All the passengers get off at the next floor. Gerard breathes a sigh of relief. He never knows what kind of reaction people will have to his unusual appearance. This was the story of his life. Rejection because of the way he looks. He tries never to call attention to himself, if possible. Ordinarily, he only goes out after dark. And he frequents the same places all the time where people had seen him before. And they just ignored him. He tries to be invisible.

Since he was a small child, he has always been picked on and bullied. Especially since he grew up in foster care. The bigger kids always picked on him. Girls ran away from him, yelling,” freak” at him. He knew what he looked like. Although the older he grew, the less often he looked in the mirror. He knows he doesn’t take care of himself. That he should wash more often and cut his hair, but it all felt so pointless. He knows he looks weird, but what can he do about it? He often hates himself. And wishes he could go to sleep one night and not wake up. No one would miss him. No one cares about him.

As they arrive at the second floor, the therapist says, “here we are, Gerard, hold on tight.”

Gerard takes a quick look from left to right, and the coast is clear. No one is coming his way.  “Here we are. Shall we get started? First, you are going to soak in the whirlpool bath, and then one of the massage therapists will give you a massage. Then we’ll begin doing some exercise that, over time, will increase your mobility. What kind of exercise do you usually get, Gerard?”

“Exercise. I don’t have a car, so I usually walk. But the only place I go to is the Bodega at the end of the street for my groceries. I can’t carry that much because of my back. So, I go there several times a week.”

“Couldn’t you have your food delivered, Gerard?”

“Delivered? I can hardly afford to buy even the cheapest food. I buy Ramen Soup and hotdogs and white bread when it is on sale. That’s about it.”

“Gerard, did you ever apply for food stamps?”

“Yeah, a long time ago when I was living in the middle of the city. But now I have to take the bus anywhere far. And I don’t have the money to do that.”

“Perhaps, if you don’t mind, I can talk to the patient advocate and see if they can help you apply for food stamps?”

“Really, you would do that?”

“Of course, Gerard. Everyone here wants to help you recover and to get assistance to meet your basic needs. We care about you, Gerard.”

Gerard feels a lump in his throat and swallows hard. It’s hard to believe that all of these people who never met him before are going to help him. He has a hard time trusting people. He looks at the therapist and quietly says, “thank you.”

Later that day, after lunch, Elaine Marshall, the Patient Advocate, sits next to Gerard’s bedside, patiently waiting for him to wake up. She’s reading through his file. She is in an optimistic mood because she has actually made progress for this particular patient. She has spent her whole career trying to make a positive difference in people’s lives. And occasionally, she’s able to help them. Some in small ways, and once in a blue moon, she makes a positive outcome for some of the high-risk patients.

Gerard slowly begins to wake up and senses that someone is looking at him. He opens his eyes and is pleasantly surprised to find the beautiful redhead Elaine next to his bed. “Good afternoon, Gerard. How are you feeling? Any better?”

Gerard realizes that he does actually feel better. His head still hurts a little, and he is still sore all over. But his heart feels lighter. He feels there is a glimmer of hope that his life may improve. “Yes, I do feel better.” And he smiles at her.

“That’s wonderful, Gerard. I’m so relieved and happy to hear that. And I believe you will feel better after I tell you some good news. First, I believe I have found a place for you to live. It is a home-sharing situation for homeless Veterans. They have an opening, and I have sent them your information. They have tentatively approved your application. It is not far from downtown. So, it will be within walking distance of shops and stores. You’ll have your own bedroom. You will share a bathroom with one other person, and you will be able to access the common room where you can watch TV or listen to music, or play cards.

And in addition, everyone is allowed to use the kitchen where you can prepare your meals. Also, I have applied for the VA benefits that you used to get. I’ll have to make a copy of your Social Security Card and email it to them. I’ll keep in touch with them, and I’m fairly certain that you will soon begin getting some additional funds from the VA since you sustained injuries. And finally, tomorrow morning, you are going to be taken to have your vision checked and be able to get those glasses you need so badly.

Gerard stares at her, afraid to believe what she has told him. He had so many disappointments in his life. It’s difficult for him to trust anyone. Finally, she puts out her hand and extends it for Gerard. He looks down at her hand. He looks into her eyes. He sees kindness. He reaches for her hand and holds it briefly. She smiles at him.

“Gerard, you’re going to be discharged tomorrow, but you’ll be coming back to the hospital as an Out-Patient to the clinic to continue your physical therapy, for advice about nutrition, to pick up your new glasses, and to get updates on your VA Benefits. I want you to know that I’m continuing to try and contact any family members of yours that might still be living. I’ll keep you up to date on anything I find out. Tomorrow I’ll be taking you over to New Beginnings, the shared housing I spoke to you about. After you look it over, you can decide whether you would feel comfortable living there. If you do, we can go pick up your belongings and move you in. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I get to decide if I want to live there. Have they accepted me?”

“Why yes, of course, they have accepted you. Would you like to go there tomorrow and take a look?

“Yes, I have never wanted to do anything more. And I would truly love to do just that.”

“Alright, Gerard, I’ll stop by tomorrow morning and pick you up by 10 am. I’ll see you then.”

As she walks out the door, Gerard watches as she walks down the long hallway. He realizes he had just met an angel. One that came into his life unexpectantly and gave him a new lease on life, a new beginning.

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