Chapter 1 : Mr. Penny

A Mission Heart

"Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me." This was my everyday chant as I pushed and weaved my way through the busy rush hour traffic of the underground metro station. You would think that people who are in a rush to get someplace would be moving instead of just standing there texting sipping coffee in my way.

I finally get through the crowd and make my way across the platform to wait for my train. I spot a familiar form sitting on the ground, propped against the tile wall. He has a hat on today, probably because of the cold. His hair is an unusual color and looks to be in typical disarray. I could spot his head of copperish hair on a crowded platform or in a sea of stadium spectators. I myself have boring brown hair with a hint of auburn. Its long strands have a mind of their own, curling and flying away from wherever I put them. Curly-haired girls want straight hair, and straight-haired girls want curly. My wavy locks drive me insane.

Today Mr. Penny, as I like to refer to him, is playing the harmonica next to his most recent companion, an older man with grey hair. The music is sad but lovely and attracts a few listeners, most of whom contribute to the large black hat placed on the floor between the two men. I often wonder how much money they bring in from their impromptu concerts and if it's enough to feed them or their families. I wonder if they have enough money for a place to stay when it's cold out and if they have enough to eat. I almost miss my train as I'm standing here listening and watching the crowd around them. Right before I step onboard, I turn to glance at Mr. Penny and get trapped in his emerald gaze.

This is not the first time that we have locked eyes, and I'm most certain it will not be our last. He is there during the week when I am on the way to and from work. Sometimes he is playing the harmonica and has a companion. Other times he is alone and reading, but always in the same spot. He has never spoken to me or I him, but we have shared a couple smiles and nods as we acknowledge the familiarity of seeing someone more than once.

Work drones on and on as I try to get the children to grasp some understanding of the English language. Being a teacher is hard yet satisfying. Most students try and do their best, but every once in awhile I get one that stands out and has potential for greatness; those are the times I enjoy my job the most.

School has just started back up and I am excited for the New Year and a new house to remodel. I make an average teachers salary and enjoy the steady income. I recently turned 25 and was reminded by my overbearing mother that I am now one quarter of a century old and need to get married and have some kids. I settled for buying a house and fixing it up, instead.

My dating life is nonexistent, mostly because of my moral compass and religious choices and beliefs. I'm not a bible thumper or a born again Christian or even a Mennonite, but I do have a faith that I try my best to follow.

I go to church every Sunday and Wednesday nights. I thieve my 10 percent and am thankful for the 100percent of blessings that god bestows upon me daily. I do date, I drink on occasion and tend to have the mouth of a sailor sometimes, but I do have a "chastity belt" that is under lock and key until my wedding night. I of course get regular pestering from my friends Angela and Jessica, who are both happily married with wonderful husbands. I quote my usual one liner whenever they start with me:

"I'm saving my cherry for the man I marry."

They usually laugh or just shake their heads and snicker at me. So far I have had zero pregnancy scares and have taken zero trips to Planned Parenthood or the health department for the morning after pill. And I am pleased to announce that I am disease free.

I go to a small Baptist church that is close nit and has a strong mission ministry. I have also becomes close with my pastor's family. I enjoy helping whenever needed and offering support to those in need or just a ear for listening. I have decided to take a more active role in the mission work that our church does, but on a more local level, because I can't travel far with work and a new house to remodel.

On my way home from work it's raining and of course, I have forgotten my umbrella again. My hair is sticking to my face as I exit the train and step onto the platform. I notice that some strands are starting to frizz up and fly everywhere. As I'm walking across the platform, I see Mr. Penny in his usual spot talking with his friend. I like looking at his eyes; they express so much. This morning they are sad and it touches my heart. I have seen them happy before, and it was a beautiful sight to see. They seemed to flow emerald like in the "Wizard of Oz".

"Excuse me ma' am?" I turn around as I'm tapped on the shoulder and come face to face with Mr. Penny.

He's holding out my wallet that has some wet bills flapping in the wind. "You dropped this."

"Oh, my! Thank you so much! I hadn't noticed I dropped it." I look down and see that, in my haste to stay somewhat dry, I have only one strap of my purse up while the other is hanging down. He gives me a small smile as I take my wallet from him. Our fingers gently touch and his are ice cold. His hand and arm are thin and I can see the bones outlined under his skin. He has long thin fingers. I look closely at the rest of him and see that he is very thin and his cheeks are hollowed out. I assume this is from hunger. My heart aches and I rush off before I can start to cry.

Once I am above ground, I stop and lean against a wall to let my tears fall freely. I am not naive about the world and the many troubles that people face daily, but to see them up-close is terrifying.

I have a million thoughts running through my head as my evening continues. As I cook my one-person dinner in my new but very used town home, I watch some TV. Flipping channels, I come across a show about coupons on TLC and it's riveting. . I watch amazed as people pay pennies for hundreds of dollars of food, and recall the events of my day. I want to help Mr. Penny. I want to help so many people in his position, and I think I may have come up with an idea.

The next morning as I'm making my breakfast, I make two extra bagels. I grab two bottles of water as I'm leaving the house. I don't think about what I'm going to do, because if I think too much I won't be able to follow through.

As I descend the stairs of the subway station, I don't hear any instruments so I'm thankful that I won't be interrupting the street concert. Mr. Penny is once again seated on the ground with his long legs stretched out. He seems to be wearing the same clothes that he was wearing yesterday. His friend is there next to him rubbing his hands together. It's not raining today, but both men are bundled up tightly due to the crisp late November air. I'm slowly walking towards them as I exit the sea of bodies in the usual morning rush hour. Mr. Penny catches my eyes as I'm getting closer. He stands up slowly and smiles at me.

"Thank you for yesterday." I say. "I really do appreciate your honesty. I'm sorry for running off…, here I thought you might like some bagels." I hand him the small paper bag then dig out the waters as he slowly takes the bag from me.

"It was no problem, ma'am. I'm just glad I saw who dropped it. Thank you for the bagels; we'll enjoy them." His voice is deep and scratchy at first, then turns more velvety as his sentence progresses. I find myself staring into his eyes longer than I should.

"It's the least I could do. Thank you again and have a blessed day." I reply and turn quickly away after giving him a small smile. As I walk towards my train stop, I hear him say, "You too."

A/N: This is a new story that I can't get out of my head. I hope that you enjoy it. I am desperately seeking a beta. If anyone knows of anyone, please let me know. Reviews are greatly appreciated. I turn to them for story guidance and ideas. Thank you again for joining me on this long journey.