The light

A light turned on, in the middle of the night. The night was cold and humid, the rain had not stopped purring the last three days. The coffee shops tables were wet and empty, and the cobble stone pavement slippery. The main street was empty, almost all were sleeping in their cozy beds except for Bob.

Bob had no house to stay dry or a bed to sleep in warmth. He lived under on the street, slept on the pavement. He was alone in the middle of this terrible night. You would think that Bob was unhappy, lonely and miserable. It might be true, but now he was happy. A smile was on his face. It appeared there when he saw the light, the small yellow light that turned on for twenty seconds over the flag pole.

Bob was always happy because he knew why it turned on, why it was important. It meant that six and half kilometers away, in the hospital of this cold city, a baby was born. And that made Bob happy.

 

AN: In Ghent I was told a story about some lights that they are connected with the hospital and that they turn them on when a baby is born. 😀

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