1

The last ray of sunlight left the dark alley as evening approached. Amidst the murmur of passing traffic, a weak voice called out, 'Help! Help a poor hungry woman!'

The old woman rattled her empty bowl, but no one took notice. Some ignored her completely, others avoided her uncomfortably with guilty faces, while some gave her condescending looks as though she ought not be there at all.

'I haven't eaten anything since yesterday!' she called out hoarsely once more. 'Please! Spare a coin, a crumb, anything!'

Her voice was drowned out in the honking of a truck horn, and no one seemed to notice her. Delicious aromas rose from nearby streetfood stalls and mixed with the smell of smoke and gasoline as vehicles went rushing by.

'Looks like I'll have to go without anything to eat tonight, too,' sighed the old woman, getting up. It was going to be dark soon, and she had to leave before the guard came for night patrolling and fined her for being there.

'Beggary is illegal,' he would say. 'And you can't sit on the street like this; it's unsightly.'

'I'm hungry,' was all she would reply, but no one seemed to listen. All that mattered was that she was breaking rules.

She leaned weakly against the wall, a stray tear rolling down her cheek. Hunger gnawed away at her stomach, but something even worse than that consumed her heart – a feeling of being unwanted and deserted by the whole world.

Clink! The sound of a coin in her bowl made her look up.

In front of her was a girl with the kindest face she had ever seen. Everything from her short black hair to her earth-coloured eyes had a softness to it that made her look almost like an angel – and the silver cross that hung around her neck seemed to confirm the thought.

'Are you all right?' the girl asked gently.

The old woman looked at her, shedding another tear in spite of herself. The girl's voice was as soft as the rest of her; but it was her tone that really touched her pained heart. It wasn't patronising, like so many she had heard; it wasn't condescending, like the taunts and insults she got every day; it was kind, genuinely kind.

'I know it's not much, but I really don't have any more. At least you can buy some supper with it,' said the girl with a sweet smile. 'But please, why are you crying?'

'Bless you, child,' said the old woman with a sniff. 'Forgive me, but it's been a long time since someone talked to me with so much care; I got a little overwhelmed.'

'Then let me get you a sandwich from that stall and we can eat and talk together,' smiled the girl. 'Would you like that?'

'Eat... with me?'

'Yes, why not?'

'H-here's the coin,' said the old woman, handing it to her and watching, bewildered, as the girl skipped over to the stall and returned shortly with a single hot sandwich, its maddening aroma drifting to the dark alley as she approached.

'Here you go!' said the girl cheerfully, placing it in her hand before sitting next to her and opening her lunchbox.

'Thank you...' said the old woman, looking at the young girl who could almost be her granddaughter – and anyone could be mistaken of it; not just by her age, but by the way she sat and began to talk about her school day like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like she wasn't sitting next to an unloved old beggarwoman, but some dear old lady she knew quite well. Like a human sitting with another human.

The girl watched the old woman's eyes well up once more, and wondered what was wrong. Perhaps she really needed the company as much as she needed that hot sandwich she was now wolfing down. She looked down at her own lunch box; there had been two sandwiches, and she had eaten one. She then looked up again at the old woman and made up her mind.

'Gosh, I've totally lost my appetite ever since I got that maths assignment,' she sighed. 'But my aunt won't appreciate me leaving my lunch like this – couldn't you eat it, please?'

The old woman looked at her. Then at the sandwich. She understood at once; it was a white lie. Still, she nodded as hunger got the better of her.

'I'll eat it,' she said, taking the extra sandwich gladly. 'Thank you!'

'No, thank you!' grinned the girl. 'Now I won't have to make excuses to my aunt about why I left it... and after all, I've got to stay slim, you know—'

'Hush,' said the old woman. 'I know what you did. I'm thrice your age, after all! When I was young, I used to be like this, too; then Life happened and I found myself in the position of those I used to help. It's so strange, isn't it?... but thank you, really. You're... you're the sweetest girl I've ever met.'

The girl smiled so brightly that the old woman smiled back. Her eyes crinkled up, like stars in her wizened face. A spark of the girl she once was flashed on her face for a few seconds and made her look almost beautiful in her own way.

'What is your name?' asked the old woman.

'Grace.'

'It suits you,' smiled the old woman. 'May you live every step of your life with the grace that makes you who you are!'

'Thank you,' said Grace, getting up. 'Now, I really must go home before my aunt has a fit!'

'Go, go,' said the old woman. 'And you're a gem, don't ever forget that!'

Grace gave her a last smile before leaving the alley and running at top speed back home. As she ran, she looked at her watch and her face fell; she was already late. Her aunt was very strict, and unlike the old woman she had met today, she did not think kindly of her. Ever since her parents had died in an accident eight years ago, she had been forced to live with her aunt, who believed her to be a burden and a menace, and never left an opportunity to remind her of it.

She reached, panting, at the front door and rang the bell.

'You're late,' was the greeting she was met with when the door opened.

'I'm sorry, I—'

'No excuses, you know I hate them!' said her aunt crossly, pushing her glasses against her nose and crossing her arms. 'No dinner tonight! Go upstairs to your room!'

Grace sighed and went up to her room. She had known this would happen. Her aunt always punished tardiness, as she called it, with cancelled meals and early bedtime. She thought back to the shared meal with the old woman and smiled. When she had lingered behind in the alley, she had glanced at her watch beforehand and assessed that she wouldn't make it. When she had handed over her second sandwich, she had known she would not get any dinner later. But she wouldn't have had it any other way.

She held the silver cross between her fingers and closed her eyes; it was her mother's last gift to her, and as she touched its cool metal, she could almost hear those words she always used to say:

'Your heart always knows what's right; always listen to it and let it guide you.'

And back there, in the alley, she had known it was the right thing to do. So she smiled again, blinking away the single tear that had stubbornly made its way past her eyelids and betrayed the sorrow, the solitude, the sheer misery that had filled her life for the last eight years.

Because no matter what, Grace was determined to always do the right thing; even if it cost her everything she had. To her, the right thing was the only thing that made sense in this twisted world; her only sense of peace in her hellish life.

The teardrop fell on the cross, and dried up as she said her daily prayer before bed. In all those years, she had never uttered a single complaint, a single plea to change her fate; today was no different.

Still, something changed that night. Because what she didn't know was that words were not the only way to pray; silent tears and broken hearts were heard, too.

*  *  *

Another day dawned and Grace woke up. She was hungry, but she tried not to notice it. She hurried up and went downstairs; thankfully, she wasn't late for breakfast yet. Her aunt looked sternly up at her as she sat down.

'Late, as usual,' she said. 'Hurry up and eat before you get late for school. And come straight back, do you understand? The laundry isn't going to do itself!'

'Yes, Aunt,' said Grace, trying to hide the piercing sadness she suddenly felt.

'Oh, and I have guests tonight, so I want you to clear some space in the living-room and dust all the furniture. Then take out the special crockery and lay it out for me – and don't you dare break it or sneak one for yourself! And when you're done with that – and after washing the lunch dishes – go upstairs and you'd better not be seen for the rest of the evening!'

'I'll be careful,' nodded Grace, almost robotically. She spread jam slowly on her toast, hoping its sweetness would cover the bitter loneliness that ate away at her.

'Hurry up, I said!' barked her aunt. 'At that rate, you'll still be eating by the time school is over! And don't put so much jam! It costs money! I spend enough keeping you here, do you understand?!'

Grace finished her sandwich in two big bites and left as fast as she could; and while she regretted not being able to savour its taste and at least eat her meal in peace, she didn't mind too much. If there was one feeling she shared with her aunt, it was the inability to stand each other's company.

Lost in her thoughts, she crossed the street in a hurry and nearly got hit by a car as she did so. She shook her head; she had to be more careful. As she cautiously crossed another street, a loud honking startled her and made her sprint forward, her heart beating fast; she had narrowly escaped a large truck. What was wrong with her today?

She made her way to the pavement, panting, and stopped there to catch her breath. By the third deep breath, she had calmed down, and was about to move ahead when she heard a faint sound. What was it? She looked down. It was a black cat, gazing intently up at her.

'Meow!'

Grace stared at it, and the cat stared back. Pitch-black fur and piercing golden eyes that seemed to say something...

'Meow!' it said again, louder.

Grace smiled. 'Are you hungry?' she asked.

'MEOW!'

'Okay, okay!' laughed Grace. 'Let's see... I happen to have a chicken sandwich today, and I think you can get a piece from it! Here you go!'

'Meowww!'

'Oh, you like it, do you? Here's another one,' she said with a smile, putting down a second small piece and watching the cat eat it with an enthusiasm that surprised her.

Suddenly, the cat looked up and hissed.

'What's wrong?' said Grace with a frown, looking backwards nervously, but there was nothing there – wait a minute!

There was nothing there. Not a soul in sight, and even the pavement itself seemed to be fading away. She looked frantically to her left at the busy street she had just crossed, and there was nothing there, either. All the cars had vanished, and the street seemed to be morphing into... something else. What was happening?

She looked down at her feet, and started as the ground beneath her seemed to be changing, changing, until a blinding white light erupted and swept over her like a gigantic wave, making her fall down. But instead of an impact, she felt herself sinking and floating all at once, the light growing more and more blindingly bright until she was forced to shut her eyes until she woke up from this bad dream – because it had to be a dream, right?

THUD! She landed with full force on a strangely hot floor and winced at the impact. She opened her eyes, but everything was a blur. She tried to sit up, but she couldn't, so she just stayed still, until she heard the sound of footsteps, and a soft voice called out to her.

'Are you all right?'

Grace looked in the direction of the voice. The blur was clearing, and she could barely make out a pair of purple eyes.

Purple?!