The Man On The Corner - Hannah

There was once a homeless man who lived on the corner of my street in a cardboard fort.
Nobody on our street talked to him.
They always said " Don’t go near that old man on the corner, he’s dirty and crazy".
But that old man was really very nice.
Every day after school I would go to the park and find him sitting on the bench, alone, watching the children play.
I would walk over to the bench and sit next to him.
We would read the comic section of the newspaper, and we would talk.
I would mostly talk about all the funny things that happened to me that day, but as we grew closer and closer, we started to talk about more personal things.
Every time I told him about my bad day he would smile sympathetically and say " Don’t worry, tomorrow is another fresh start, a new day".
I would smile at him and rest my head on his shoulder.
He grew so close to our family, sometimes he came over for lunch.
He was more like my grandfather than anything.
Then one day told me lately he was sick, very sick. I smiled at him and whispered "Don’t worry, tomorrow is another fresh start, a new day, you are going to be just fine".
The next day I skipped over to the park bench and saw the old man sleeping on the bench I laughed to myself.
I called the old man’s name softly. Nothing.
I leaned over to shake him awake.
And at that moment when my hand touched his arm, I knew.
He was cold, too cold.
I leaned over him and cried, the other kids playing in the park staring at me, but I didn’t care.
I cried over him until it was late and my mother was looking for me. She found me in the park bent over the old man.
She hugged me close with tears in her eyes.
"It was his time to go", she whispered softly in my ear.
And at that point I knew my mother cared, she cared about the snow white, dead homeless man, and she cared about me.
I pulled her close and we cried together.
We had a funeral for him. The whole street attended. And they did care. The old man on the corner had always been a huge addition to our street. People waved to him, and talked to him, but not in public, they were afraid to be seen with him.
I knew him the best though, and he would make it into heaven, because he was a great person.
I smiled to myself and pulled the comic section of newspaper that we looked at together yesterday.
I will never forget that old man on the corner.