Note: This is a submission I made to a writing contest. I publish it here.

A hundred ways to say no: I’m busy, I have someone to meet, I forgot my wallet – humankind seems to be able to create excuses on the fly. It’s easier to lie to someone when you know you’ll probably never see them again.

The Salvation Army worker stands in the cold. He holds a bell, ringing it slowly. His gloves do not alleviate the cold. Behind him, his sign hangs on a wooden post.

The collection can shakes in the wind, empty.

No one has glanced at him or his sign yet. A woman wearing a leather fur coat walks by briskly. He rings his bell, hoping feebly for the woman to turn, to deposit something into the can.

She does not turn her head. Her high heels click away on the pavement. They do not turn towards him. The sound grows softer as she walks away. She turns around the corner and leaves.

The wind gusts around the street. The sun dips below the horizon, settling in its home. Across the street, a bar clamors with sound. People laugh and smile inside. But outside, the street light flickers.

The worker stands alone.

At the same time, across the ocean in Africa, a poor boy sits down in the sand. Ten miles away, his mother desperately presses down the lever for the water to gush out of the well. But the spigot only drips.

She sighs. The family will have no water to drink. She looks upwards towards the heavens, praying to God. Oh God, oh God, give us some water please. Give us some food please.

Je, si kupoteza matumaini. Do not lose hope, she thinks to herself. Do not lose hope.

Back on the street corner, the Salvation Army worker puts his sign back in the truck. He unhooks the collection can from the bottom of the sign, shaking it. Not a coin rattles. Not a dollar falls out.

He sighs. Not a single penny earned for a day’s work. He drops the can onto the seat, looking up to the skies in prayer. Earthquakes around the world, people without food or water: all those people shouldn’t have to live like that.

He fires up his truck and begins to drive away. On the passenger seat, the can begins to shake. It rolls off the chair and falls on the floor. Something falls out.

The worker freezes. He stops the car and takes a look. It is a one hundred dollar bill, folded neatly into a little square. A note is attached – “Save a life with this.”

He drops to his knees in happiness. Someone will not die. Someone will be saved.

And thousands of miles away, the child lifts his head. A strike of thunder is heard. The village begins to cheer. And ten miles away, his mother hears the same thunder strike and dips her head.

Asante Mungu. Thank you, God. Thank you.