Musings at Altitude

Earlier this evening, a young boy came to my door.  He must have been around 10 years old.  And all he had with him was a box of rocks.

I asked him what the rocks were for, and he said, “I’m selling them because my Mom and Dad need money.”  When he said that, I quickly looked up and down the street, looking for a parent or a car that was following close behind, but I saw no one following him. 

I asked him if he lived around here, and he said he lived up the street.  He looked that way anxiously, obviously not wanting to give out too much information and uncomfortable with any talk other than about those rocks. 

I quickly changed the subject and asked him where he found the rocks, and he said he found them around his backyard. 

I then asked him how much he wanted for one rock, and he answered, “Whatever you can give”.

I smiled at him, because he spoke about the rocks with lots of conviction and no anxiety at all. 

So I told him, “I’ll buy one of your rocks for whatever cash I have in on my desk.” 

I went into my office and all I had was a $10 bill. 

So I brought the money out to the young boy and asked, “Which rock can I buy for $10?” 

He excitedly responded, “Whichever rock you want!”

As I looked through his box of rocks, I saw rocks of all shapes and sizes, some with amazing colors and others the traditional grays and browns that you often find in your yard.

As I shuffled through the box and picked up a couple of different ones, I settled on one rather plain rock that didn’t stand out in color or quality, but did most certainly stand out in its ordinariness.

I told the young boy that I’d take that one and offered him the $10 in exchange.

He smiled and thanked me and quickly turned and walked down the driveway, obviously thrilled with his first sell.

I walked back into my office and followed him as he walked down the sidewalk with an excited look on his face.

I couldn’t help but wonder if his story was true, and if it was, what incredible courage it took for him to walk around the neighborhood with that box of rocks. 

As he walked up the next driveway, I went back out onto my porch and I called out to him, “Are you going to be ok?”

He smiled and said, “Yes sir!” and kept walking up to that next door.

It’s after midnight now, 5 hours after the encounter with that young boy, and I’m staring at the rock that I bought.  I’m wondering about the rest of the story, and I’m wondering if he did indeed sell the rest of the rocks in his box.  I’m wondering what kind of financial needs his parents may have had and whether that young boy took it upon himself to help his parents in that time of need.  I’m wondering how many people immediately thought it was a scam and quickly said “no thanks” and shut the door, and I wonder if that were really the case how many others like me may have been duped by that young boy and his box of rocks.

With so much pain in the world today, it’s hard to know the real need from the scam.  But what if 1 out of 10, or 1 out of 100, or even just 1 out of 1000 were completely legitimate and the need was real and that small donation made the difference in a meal being had or a bill being paid.  And what if that small donation provided a real spark in the life of that 1 in 1000 individual who really did have a need and saw no other way of finding the money needed to meet the need or care for something or someone very important to them.

We’ll probably never know if indeed it does help someone in need in a very meaningful way, but if those that are blessed with the ability to give continue to give, that 1 in 1000 need may be met, and that 1 in 1000 life may very well be saved.

When I look at this rock from now on, that’s what I’m going to believe.