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Одинокий акт доброты: помощь человеку на улице

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Был обычный зимний день, мороз щипал щёки, а я ехал в переполненной маршрутке в институт. Окна запотели, воздух густой от дешёвых сигарет и поношенных шуб. На остановке ввалился мужчина — лет пятидесяти, шатался, вцепился в поручень, будто это последняя ниточка жизни. Сначала решил — поддатый, но нет: глаза мутные, лицо землистое, движения тяжёлые.

Вышли вместе. Не знаю, что меня дёрнуло, но пошёл за ним. Он шёл, спотыкаясь, будто каждую секунду мог рухнуть. Подошёл ближе:

— Вам плохо?

Он взглянул на меня — взгляд потерянный, болезненный. Не успел ответить — ноги подкосились, и он грохнулся на асфальт.

Бросился к нему, тряс за плечи, кричал в телефон. Мимо шли люди — кто отвернулся, кто сделал вид, что не видит, кто-то даже ускорился. Лишь я один орал в трубку и держал его за руку, пока не приехала скорая.

Врачи работали быстро, без лишних слов. Один — седой, с усталыми глазами — глянул на меня:

— Молодец. Без тебя он бы не выжил.

Кивнул и побежал на пары. Опоздал, но внутри горело — сделал что-то важное.

Жили мы с матерью вдвоём. Отца не знал, мама работала уборщицей. Помогал ей — вставал затемно, греб снег, таскал мусор. Не жаловались, просто жили.

А потом однажды утром — мороз, снег скрипит под ногами. Вдруг подкатывает дорогущий джип, выходит женщина — в норковой шубе, с маникюром, вся благость.

— Вы Артём?

— Да…

— Врач дал ваш адрес. Вы спасли моего мужа. Если бы не вы…

Она протянула конверт. Я молча взял. Внутри — деньги, хватило закрыть мамины долги. Впервые видел, как она плачет от счастья.

Окончил учёбу, устроился в МЧС. Мама радовалась:

— Ты у меня настоящий, сынок. Добрый, отзывчивый.

Через пару лет встретил Ларису. Скромная, умная, без фальши. Привёл домой — мама сразу обняла её, как родную.

— Такую бы тебе и жену, — шепнула мне.

Потом настал черёд знакомиться с её родителями. Волновался — семья обеспеченная, отец бизнесмен, мать — доцент. Захожу в дом — и вдруг её отец вскакивает, бледнеет, не отрываясь смотрит на меня.

— Это ты?.. — прошептал.

А потом подошёл и обнял так, что кости затрещали.

— Ларис, помнишь, я рассказывал про парня, который меня спас? Это он…

Я узнал его. Тот самый мужчина с улицы. В его глазах теперь был свет. Он повернулся к жене:

— Вот как судьба умеет возвращать долги.

Мы стояли, обнявшись, и никто не стеснялся слёз. Их дочь стала моей невестой. А он — моим свёкром.

Вот так одна минута человечности перевернула столько судеб.

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