I looked up and saw the luminous, beautiful white clouds in the sky -- a precursor to an impending rain, I thought. I knew it was going to rain. I didn’t know the exact time. Nevertheless, I decided to go hiking, even though no one else was on the trails. There is something magical about these great, beautiful mountains. They seem to touch the soul in a special way. My Grandmother always said: “Behind every mountain is another mountain.” Soon, you will realize that the mountain is being used as a metaphor because all things great have a hidden meaning; that’s why I decided to stop chasing the mountains long ago.

As I went up the hills, I could feel the gentle breeze against my face. A flock of birds descended from the hill while calling in the sky. They must be heading home to escape the rain, I thought.

By the time I got back to the trailhead from my hike, it was pouring hard and I was soaking wet. I didn’t mind hiking in the rain. It reminded me of my days as a young girl in the Caribbean; it was always a pleasure for me to sing and dance in the rain.

“You will catch a cold,” Grandma would always say.

I didn’t mind catching a cold because the joy of singing and dancing in the rain would always outweigh all the runny noses and bad coughs. As a little kid, I assumed that those rains were teardrops from the angels in heaven. Those tears may have had some type of spiritual benefit. Where I am from, most things had some type of spiritual benefit.

As I looked back on my childhood while hiking in the rain, I saw a young woman sitting under a tree to get out of the rain. She was barefoot and had very little on; I imagined how cold she must have been. She was coughing her head off. Gran might have been right when she said: “You can catch a cold in the rain.”

“Are you okay?” I asked the young woman.

Her response was incoherent.

“Are you cold?”

She nodded “yes” reluctantly. I offered her a ride home but she didn’t answer. She bent her head down and continued coughing. I could tell right away that something was wrong in this person's life. I proceeded to go home with the intent to bring her back some clothes and something to eat.

“Wait for me. I’ll be right back,” I said as I walked away.

Once I arrived home, I went to check my closet. I placed my raincoat and a couple of sweaters inside a plastic bag. Then I made a warm tea, grabbed a candy bar and hurried back to the park. By the time I got there, I realized my friend was no longer there. I panicked a little because I so wanted to help her. I walked back to my car and there she was, hiding behind another tree. When she saw me, she slowly walked to my direction. The rain had subsided. She stood there looking at me as if she were in a daze; she was beautiful. Her wet hair partly covered her eyes and face. I could still see the pink roseate of her cheeks under the faint light that came from the backyard of a house nearby. There was an empty look on her face; watching her brought tears to my eyes. I could almost feel her inner pain because I knew too well what it felt like to feel alone in the world. I could hear my grandmother‘s voice saying:” Lili, it’s not good to feel other people’s pain. That’s not good for your soul.” I wanted to know what a barefoot, sick young woman was doing all alone in the park. Obviously, she wasn’t there to hike; therefore, I became concerned for her safety.

“It’s getting late in here and it will soon be very dark, maybe you need to go home,” I said. She didn’t answer me. I handed her the clothes, the candy bar, and the tea. She placed the plastic cup containing the tea on the ground with the candy bar on top of it. She removed the clothes from the plastic bag and put them all on; she did so in a hurry. My raincoat made her look like a movie star; it was a gift from an ex-boyfriend. She looked at me for a brief moment -- maybe it was her way of saying thanks. She picked up the tea and the candy bar, and then she ran away in a jiffy, as if to appease my apprehension. I looked up ahead and watched the last rays of the sun disappearing behind the mountain. I scanned the grounds and felt relieved to see her walking away from the park.

When I got home I described the young woman to my mother.

“She’s beautiful?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Blonde hair in a bun and pink cheeks, no shoes on, maybe your height?”

“Right.”

 “Ah! I know her. I have seen her hanging out behind the garbage bin by the store. I think she may be homeless. I‘ve been bringing food to her,” she said.

“She never spoke a single word with me,” I answer.

“She doesn’t talk too much.”

I became very preoccupied with the young woman’s predicament. I wish there was something I could do to change her situation. I wondered how she survived these tough streets. Right away, I began to feel grateful for having a roof over my head and my home cooked rice and beans to eat.

My mom has not seen her lately. I always carry clothes and shoes inside my trunk in case I should ever see her again. I hope she’s well wherever she is. I often wonder; where did she come from? Where is her family? How could someone so beautiful be alone and abandoned in the world? Why am I so concerned for her? I could hear my grandmother’s voice saying: ”Child, you’re always trying to save the world.”

I still remember the young woman’s face. What is the story of her circumstance?  I may never know her situation but I was gratified to feel I 'd made a minor difference in her life. She also made a difference in my life because she was a reminder to me to give thanks and to bless every day.

A couple of weeks later, it started to rain again and I reached for my raincoat. I 'd forgotten that I gave it to the young woman who needed it more than I. With the rainy season around, I may need to purchase another one. In order to do that, I may have to sacrifice many tings including my Author’sDen membership.

Days later, I found out that someone from Author’sDen helped pay for my full membership fees. I do not even know who the person is. I am very grateful for this beautiful act of kindness and I greatly admire the person who came through for me. I simply wish to say: ”Thank you.”

      The lesson is: “Good deeds always go around.”