written by Debbie Williamson
Each and every day, I ride the subway system, in Toronto, to go back and forth to work. Today was no different, until a four year old girl got on the subway. Nobody seemed to be with her and she seemed to be upset.
”Are you here by yourself?” I asked her.
”Yes I am,” said the little girl.
”Where is your Mommy?” I asked.
“She’s at home, sick,” said the little girl.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
”I’m going to my Daddy’s work to tell him that Mommy’s sick,” the little girl said. ”She can’t get out of bed. Her back is so sore.”
Tears rolled down her cheek as she told me that her Mother had fallen down the stairs and had injured her back.
”Okay,” I said, trying to calm her down. “What is your name?”
“My name is Angela,” said the little girl.
”Well Angela,” I said. “My name is Sam.”
I took my cell phone out of my briefcase.
”Where does your Daddy work?” I asked.
Angela told me the name of the company where her Daddy worked and she also told me her Daddy’s name.
I called information on the cell phone and was able to reach Angela’s Father.
”Yes, I’ll stay with her until we reach your office,” I promised Mr. Mills, Angela’s Father.
I called my own boss on the cell phone and explained to him that I was going to be late.
Angela’s Father met us outside the Summerhill subway station. He wrapped his arms tightly around Angela, hugging her.
”I was so worried about you,” he said to Angela. ”Don’t you ever go on the subway, by yourself, ever again.”
“But Daddy,” cried Angela. “Mommy’s really sick.”
”Okay, okay,” said Daddy, soothing Angela by patting the back of her head. ”We’ll go home and make sure Mommy’s alright.”
Mr. Mills thanked me for helping out his daughter.
”What’s your name?” he asked, extending his hand to give me a handshake.
”My name is Sam,” I said.
”Subway Sam,” said Angela, smiling.
I got to work about an hour late, but I felt good inside. I had just done a very good deed.