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The Story of Stanley Gates

Stanley Gates stood, shivering, outside the Target during the last hour of his shift on December 23, 1998. The tone of his Christmas bell rang throughout his head and inflated a week long headache. The air was a bitter cold that pierced the skin throughout his body. The snow from the week prior was almost gone; the only piles left were bordered with a delightful brown and yellow tint of slush that screamed industry. The night was coming to a close and the sun had been down for what seemed like ages. Stanley turned to check on the teenagers who had been spending the past half hour by the carts. He couldn't help but look at them with a mixture of disgust and envy. Their care-free lives consisted of nothing but presents over the next few days. He watched as they used their skate boards to push each other into a large mountain of snow that must have been built up by a plow.

Excuse me sir, said a little girl in a very cliche cute-little-girl voice. Startled, he turned around and was surprised with the smile of a girl tugging at his red pants. The girl was wearing a giant pink coat with a purple scarf guarding her from the outside weather. Her rosy red cheeks could compete with those of Santa Claus.

Stanley bent down and lowered his red bucket, and the little girl dropped a quarter into it.

Why thank you miss! Stanley replied with a grin across his face, suddenly feeling a gust of warmth. He looked up to see the girl's mom struggling to hold several large bags of future presents. Need a hand? he asked.

Oh I wouldn't want to-she started.

Oh no, please, I need the exercise! Stanley stopped her, Gotta get my body temp' up!

Stanley grabbed the majority of the bags and followed the mother of the girl in the pink coat to her Ford Explorer. He loaded them into the car and closed the trunk. Stanley turned to head back to his post at the front of the Target entrance and began walking. The sight of the red donation bucket sent a jolt of unknown sorrow. He must have found a hidden joy in helping others that distracted him from his current duty.

Excuse me sir! yelled a voice from the Ford Explorer.

Stanley turned around and saw the mother of the little girl in the pink coat, walking briskly towards him. She lifted her hand, wrapped in a black leather glove, and holding a faded, old, one dollar bill.

A sudden alertness hit Stanley's mind. He indeed needed the dollar more than anything. Just enough to get him something cheap from a fast food joint on

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