Mr. Hill

Pandemic Thanksgiving. Sometimes, we're unexpectedly thankful for hope that a happy surprise brings, a bonus. 

The worn out rubber ball banged the wall and rebounded straight back to Robbie's glove, re-captured with a stinging clap. Then, again, same. Bang, caught. Bang. Nothing else to do. All of Robbie's friends couldn't come out. He already had his dinner, and outside now, he noticed the rapidly darkening sky, the winter nights coming up sooner, colder. Then, in a loud instant, an uptairs window slammed shut. Standing behind the window, an obviously upset and glaring Mr. Hill, a neighbor. 

Robbie froze, staring upward, Mr. Hill disappeared. The lad felt bad. He didn't get why his neighbor looked annoyed. He liked Mr. Hill, always took his trash bag downstairs to the dumpster, his elderly neighbor didn't get out much. Then suddenly there he was, Mr. Hill, he walked over to Robbie. "Look, why don't you bounce your ball on that wall, instead?" He pointed across the parking lot to an old warehouse wall. Robbie scratched his head with his glove. He never thought about it. "Sure", he replied. "Then my windows won't rattle, understand? " "Sorry."  Now Robbie got it, a bit late. "Hey, what's wrong with your hand?"  Mr. Hill noticed the boy rubbing it, a bit red and swollen. Robbie didn't even know he had taken his plastic glove off his sore left hand. "Oh, nothing, it's this old glove, doesn't have any real padding.", he said. Mr. Hill paused for a moment, then left without a word, back upstairs. Great, the lad thought. Now a neighbor is mad at me. What next? He wished he could see friends. He wished this whole terrible year was just over.

Two days later, Robbie woke up feeling  a little sad. His young sister was excited it was finally Thanksgiving Day, with a fine turkey dinner later that their hard-working parents were gratefully able to provide. But the boy wasn't feeling it this time. That's right when his smiling mom walked into his room, holding a roughly wrapped, brown-paper package. "Robbie, this is for you!" The boy hastily unwrapped part of the bundle- inside, a smaller package with his sister's name. He handed it to her as she squealed with joy. And, then he saw it: a brand-new, genuine Rawlings all-leather Roberto Clemente signature Centerfield glove! And, a note: "Happy Thanksgiving, thanks for your help. Mr. Hill."