Jimmy pulled off his gloves and wiped his forehead just after he stacked the last piece of firewood against the garage.  The day had been one of the hottest of the summer, but as he granddad always said, “It only gets hotter in hell, so no excuses today boy!”.  Needing a drink of water, he began walking toward the well on the backside of the farmhouse.

As he approached the corner of the house, he could here his granddad coughing.  The coughing had gotten worse over the past year, beginning as what everyone thought was a simple cold that just wouldn’t go away.  Coming around the corner, he watched his granddad in the middle of an uncontrolled and prolonged fit of coughing and was shocked when the white handkerchief his granddad has used to cover his mouth came away stained with blood.

At first, he didn’t move, but simply stared.  His grand parents had raised him after his dad was killed in World War I and his mother had taken her life shortly thereafter, never able to recover from the loss.  He had only been two years old at the time and barely remember anything other than his grand parents support and nurturing.  He had always considered his granddad to be something bigger than life, the foundation of the family, and if anything, invincible.  He had never seen him seriously hurt or even sick in the past 14 years he had lived on the farm, but now something was terribly wrong.

With the shock wearing off finally, Jimmy ran over to his granddad’s side.  His granddad tried to hide the red stained garment, but another fit of coughing forced him to once again cover his mouth with handkerchief.  Jimmy stood there, unsure what to do until finally, he simply reached up and gently laid his hand on his granddad’s shoulder.  The gentle reassurance seemed to calm the coughing spasms that wrack the body of the older man and after several seconds, he was able to take a long, deep breath.

Wiping his mouth one last time, Jimmy’s granddad turned and looked him in the eye and just stared for several long seconds.  His eyes seemed to be searching for something, but Jimmy was unsure what.  Finally, the old man seemed to relax his shoulders before saying “Jimmy, my boy, it’s time we have a man to man talk.”

Later that evening, eyes still filled with tears, Jimmy laid on his bed, staring up into the darkness, filled with a helplessness he had never experienced before.  The man who had raised him had been diagnosed with tuberculosis, which would surely take his life without medical treatment.  Knowing there was a chance had pushed away the helpless feeling, only to have it slam home even harder when his granddad explained that they had no money for medical treatment and he would rather die than sell the farm and allow his wife to be homeless.  Finally, after hours of self-pity, he fell asleep, less because of being tired, but more from simply trying to escape the reality of the situation.

The next day, he avoided his granddad and told his grandma he was walking into town.  With a sympathetic expression, she nodded her approval as she finished up the dishes from breakfast.  Two hours later, Jimmy was walking along a dusty, unpaved street on the outside edges of town.  This part of town was considered the “low rent” district, with a majority of residents working either minimum wage at the factory, or not at all.  Jimmy avoided eye contact with people as he walked along, not wanting any trouble.

As he passed a simple home with overgrown grass, he could hear sounds of a baby crying while the mother rocked her in a chair, trying to calm the infant down.  Out of curiosity, Jimmy glanced up and directly into the crying, pleading eyes of the infant’s mother.  Caught off guard, Jimmy quickly looked back at the ground and picked up his pace.  Then he heard the woman’s voice say “Son, please son, just a minute of your time.”  Jimmy was unsure what made him stop, but as he did, he slowly looked up at the woman once again.

“Thank you, I desperately need some help.  Come closer and I will explain” came from the woman as she continued to rock and pat the baby on the back.  Reluctantly, Jimmy stepped into the yard and walked to the bottom of the short staircase at the edge of the front entryway.  Taking in a long breath to steady her own crying, the woman said “Thank you son, I was at my wits end.  My baby is hungry, but I’m completely out of milk.  I hurt my ankle the other day and can’t make it to the store.  I’ve asked for help from my neighbors, but they just ignore me for some reason.  Could you help me?”

Jimmy replied “Ma’am, I have no money.  I’m sorry….”  Before he could say anything more, she cut him off and said “Oh son, I have a quarter for the milk.  I just need someone to get it for me.  Tell you what, I’ll throw in a nickel for your troubles if you will do this for me.”  Jimmy had never held a quarter before and wasn’t even sure if he knew what one looked like.  For long seconds, he just stared at the woman.  Then finally he said “Yes Ma’am, I can help.  Where is the market?”

As he walked in the direction, she had explained with the two coins tightly held in his hand, his mind began to imagine how many deliveries he would have to make at $0.05 each to pay for his granddad’s treatment.  He really had no idea how expensive it would be, but this was at least a start and a sliver of hope had crept back into his heart.

Walking into the store, he quickly headed back to the back wall and found a gallon of milk.  His shoulders sagged as he saw the price was actually $0.27 per gallon.  Had the woman known that he would have to give up part of his pay to get her a gallon of milk?  Filled with frustration, he grabbed the gallon of milk and walked toward the front counter.  Another customer had the store owner’s attention with a second forming a line down the aisle.

Just as a taboo thought crossed his mind, and as if his thought had triggered an action, the store owner said to the first customer “I’ll be right back, I have it back in the storeroom.”  Jimmy watched the store owner quickly disappear through a side door into what must have been the storeroom.  Taking a deep breath and willing himself not to panic, Jimmy nestled the gallon of milk into the cradle of his arm, away from the customers in line, and leisurely walked out the front door of the grocery.  He focused on maintaining a steady pace to avoid drawing attention, before turning the corner at the edge of the store and into an alleyway.  A short way down the alley was an overflowing trash can.  Jimmy quickly sifted through the trash until he found a brown paper bag to hide the milk.  Wrapping it up tightly, then glancing over his shoulder in both directions, he headed back toward the woman with the hungry baby.

As he walked into the yard, the woman hobbled out onto the front porch and let out a “Thank you Jesus” followed by a huge smile on her face.  Jimmy couldn’t help but also smile as he handed her the gallon of milk.  As she took the brown bag, she said “Son, you’re a savior.  Tell you what, if you come back every Wednesday until my foot heals up, I’ll give you nickel for your services each week.”  At first, Jimmy’s eyes got large with excitement, then he allowed his smile to be replaced with a frown that he worked hard to maintain.   The woman saw the frown and asked “Son, what’s wrong?”  Purposefully, Jimmy hesitated before saying “Well, Ma’am, the milk was actually $0.30” before glancing toward the ground.  Jimmy smiled when he heard the woman laugh and then say, “Oh son, no worries, here’s another nickel for your troubles and the added expense of the milk.”

Walking away from the woman’s home, he thought “I just made $0.35 for an hour work and I can make it again next week.”  Then he thought how disappointed his grandparents would be if he got caught stealing.  Shaking his head, he couldn’t push away the image of his granddad’s blood-soaked handkerchief and knew he would be back again next week.