A young couple faced an unexpected dilemma one Sunday afternoon when there was a knock at the door. The husband peered out and saw a dishevelled, unkempt man reeking of filthno bag, no rucksack, nothing. Before the husband could speak, the stranger blurted, “Is Emily here?” Then he shouted, “Emily, please, come out!”
Emily appeared, studying him carefully but failing to recognise him. Desperation filled his eyes. “Emily, Im your cousin, Ethan. Weve never met. Im at rock bottomplease, dont let me die out here.”
Reluctantly, they let him in, though the stench was unbearable. Ethan slumped against the door, barely standing. “A thousand miles by hitchhiking and on foot,” he gasped. “Slept in fields, sold my phone, beggedalmost got arrested.” His voice cracked. “My wife kicked me out. Mum shut the door in my face. Youre my last hope, Emily. Help me.”
The cramped hallway stifled them. They couldnt turn him away. They sent him to wash, gave him fresh clothesa T-shirt and trouserswhile his filthy rags were tossed into a bin bag.
Clean now, Ethan eyed the kitchen hungrily. Emily sat him down, but her husband pulled her aside. “Were really keeping this mess?” he hissed. “Hell rob us in our sleep! Charities exist for thislet them deal with it.”
Emily refused. Not because he was family, but because he was human.
When they returned, Ethan was slurping soup straight from the pot, spilling it down his chin. Disgusted, Emily shoved a bowl at him. “Eat properly.”
Eventually, he slumped, exhausted, but she shook him awake. “Explain yourself.”
He choked out, “They threw me out like a stray. Not a penny, not a crust. Mum slammed the door. I had nowhere else.”
“*Why?*” Emily pressed.
He buried his face in his hands. “Cant say. Too ashamed.”
They tossed old coats on the floor for him to sleepno space in their tiny flat. From the balcony, Emily called his mother, her aunt.
“Aunt Margaret, Ethans herefilthy, desperate. What happened?”
Aunt Margaret wailed. “Hes no son of mine! Gambled everything, sold our valuables. Even stole from me. *You* deal with him!”
Emily bristled. “So you dump him on me? My husbands furious!”
“Throw him out!” her aunt snapped. “No mercy.”
“I *cant*!” Emily shouted before hanging up.
Her husband stormed in. “Ill make him leave. Give him £20 and be done.”
“No,” Emily said firmly. “If something happens to him, Ill never forgive myself.”
“Fine,” he spat. “But Im staying at Mums.” And he left.
The night dragged on, fear gnawing at Emily. *What if he robs us?* Yet by dawn, Ethan seemed calmer, even remorseful. “I was a criminal,” he admitted. “But Ive changed. Id never hurt you.”
Still, she found a shelterthough they had no space for two days. Two agonising days. Her husband raged over the phone, calling her a fool.
By the time Ethan left for the shelter, hed regained some dignity, swearing hed reform. “I owe you everything, Emily.”
Five years later, he returned well-dressed, a young woman beside him. “We came to thank you,” he said. “If not for you, Id be deador worse. Ive rebuilt my life.”
Hed found honest work, remarried. His mother remained estranged; Emily was his only family now. He called on holidays, even offered help if she ever needed it.
The ordeal taught Emily something about her husbandand herself. Compassion isnt weakness. Sometimes, the hardest mercy is the one that changes everything.
