That specific evening of October, was colder than usual; the trees moved from side to side from the fierce winds. I sat near the fireplace to stay warm. Being in a city on top of the mountain does not help with the cold weather either. That same night I hard some screams in the streets. I live near a very nice and big inn. I leaned toward the window to witness the screaming’s. I saw far away a man who by his shaggy and stumbling walking looked very tired. He had a knapsack at his back which made me know he was definitely a traveler.
He was not so clean and from even far away you could see he was cold as he shivered and hugged himself. I felt sorry for the poor man that I deduced had been kicked out from the inn and that’s what all the screaming was about. I saw him get closer to my house and when he was precisely in front of my garden I opened the door. I asked him if he wanted to come inside my house and have something to eat. When he came closer I could see his fatigued face much clearer. His cloth was very dirty covered with dust and holes. His hair was messy and not so well shaved. I ignored everything that scared me of the man but felt pity and sympathy with his sad look. When I ask him if he would like dinner he rapidly without hesitated nodded. As we sat at the dinner table I was dying to know from where he came, and his name. It took him a while to speak he was heavily eating his food. After that he told me his name was Jean Valjean and was a criminal.
My heart almost stopped in that moment. I felt immobile and stupid for inviting a stranger to my house. I think Jean saw my face because he told me he understands if I wanted him to leave. I though about it but when I relaxed a little and saw this venerable eyes asking for a home, I insisted he stayed. I was still worried for having a criminal at my house but he later told me more about his story. He was somehow innocent but lived in complete injustice and poverty. He looked harmless and I felt good about myself and my good deed.After eating two plates of food I directed him to his bed for the night. He looked so relived to lie in a bed. I ask him about how long was this journey that the idea of having bed looked new to him. I was surprised and sad to hear he had been sleeping in wood for about almost twenty years. This gave me another reason to be happy with myself and what I have done. I placed some clean cloths and went outside the door. When I headed toward my room I heard him cry. How troubled could he have been? What was going on in his live? At last he had a place to cry. He was so homeless and occupied solving his problems he forgot of his feelings.
The next morning he looked better. I gave him a big breakfast to cheer him up. I think I surely did, he looked so thankful and fresh, although he still needed a bath. I also provided him that and cloth from my husband that had passed away a year ago. He was now new and clean and went away through the same door he had entered but this time with a smile in his face.
