It was a short time before Christmas, I had been living behind a dumpster by the Minneapolis YMCA. I was 15 years old. I was still pretty new to the streets, and the women's and children's shelter had given me some room mates that I didn't like or trust who were older guys and felt that it was safer to hit the streets fully with my best bro at the time, and just go. Unfortunately a few months prior, my best bro had been gunned down, so it was just me. I had gotten rolled by a group of older kids, and was battered, bruised, scared, and cold. I had taken refuge in my 'home', one of the few places I felt safe.
The issue, it was cold, they had taken my blankets and coat along with my backpack. So there I sat, I had gone to the 410 to hope they would let me sleep in there, but it was a no go. There was no room in the inn per-say. I had gone back to my spot, I knew that at least I would have some kind of wind block from the elements.
As the cold crept in I started to become panicked, then enraged, and then it came to the last part, acceptance. I came to this understanding or belief that I was going to freeze to death and that would be that. I had known another guy who had frozen a few nights before, and everyone said that it was supposed to be like going to sleep. In that I remember finding comfort and solace. I remember the cold, I don't know if I have ever been that cold since, or just the mind set that set in.
Then it happened. I heard some noise just on the other side of my dumpster. I panicked, I remember being terrified that the guys who had taken my stuff were back to finish the job, or just make me pay a little more. I sat there and shook both out of cold and fear.
Then I saw him, a great hulking figure, wearing this huge coat with a hood. There was this cavernous depth where his face seemed to just disappear into the darkness of the shadows that hid his face. The moment he saw me I'm sure he could see the abject terror in my face. He quickly held up his hands in a universal sign of 'I mean you no harm', and said, "I ain't here to hurt you kid". His hands then darted down to a brown paper cub bag and a bundle that I suddenly noticed at his feet. He simply said, 'Here ya go kid.' and almost seemed to float back down the alley from where he had come.
As I rooted through the bundle, I found a warm coat and a blanket (I still have a section of fabric from the blanket) and inside the bag, a hat, some mittens, a sandwich, and one of those old lunchbox thermoses filled to the brim with hot chocolate. I ran down the alley, to try and chase down my guardian angel in disguise, as I got to the corner, I got just enough of a view of my hero hopping into a van much like the one that I and others drive for SOHO. The only good glimpse I got of him as he left, were the words sewn into the back of his jacket, which simply read , 'The Salvation Army'. So that is my story, it is what it is, but I will tell you this, I may have very well frozen to death that night if it wasn't for The Salvation Army.
