She saw him first, sitting there under a box, huddled in the frigid cold air. Next to the bundled up man, was a framed box, made of the finest mahogany, filled with glistening medals. When I looked to catch what my little niece was staring at, the first thing I saw was the boat-like hat with little metal pins pierced through the fabric, collecting spare change as well as falling snow; with that my heart broke. Grasping my hand so tightly, tears filling her precious blue eyes, my bright little niece, Lilah, looked up to me and simply stated, “Mommy says men with the boat hats and boxes filled with shiny coins, are heroes.” At her sweet and innocent kindness, I felt my first tear fall.
“Lilah,” I muttered her name as I knelt down to the ground, feeling the cool, white snow seep through my jeans, “they are heroes. Strong men who live their lives trying to serve us and our country. Some have even died for us.” I took out my checkbook and wrote a check for all the money I had and slipped it into her tiny, mittened hand and whispered to her, “go and put this little piece of paper in that man’s hand and make sure to tell him ‘thank you, you are so loved,’ for Aunt Kelsey, please.”
I watched her walk over to the young man and hand him the check. I watched as his eyes filled with tears and hugged my little niece, I watched as she ran to me and his gaze locked on mine. Slowly, quietly, and gracefully he stood and walked to me. He told me how he had tried to attend college and not fit in, how he had earned the Medal of Honor in combat, and how he had received his Purple Heart at the same time. Nobody knew him, his family had all died, and people often shuffled quickly past him without a glance. The last thing he said to me as he started to walk away was, “Thank you for the most random-act-of-kindness to a poor, crumpled, veteran’s soul.”
I watched as he walked away and quickly pulled a paper out of my purse, writing my name and number and ran to catch up to the man. Right as I reached him, I slid the paper into his hand and said, “God bless you, and your service.” His dims eyes lighted with hope and not two weeks later I received a phone call from the young man. He had taken his money to buy a simple suit, had a job interview, and was currently working in an office building at a small desk that would grow with hard work. Two years later, he was married to the “woman who changed his life” as he liked to call say, which was me of course; living in a beautiful house with steady jobs and full potential in life, a beautiful niece Lilah, visiting as often as she could; making plans for their own future together.  
The little girl saw the icy man, bundled up under his wet box, with a box of beautiful medals that he had rightfully earned. His hat sat next to him, collecting all the coins that anybody would drop in to it. A hero in an undeserving place, captured in the weight of the world, unaware of what his future would hold. The little girl and the young woman would change just that, and the soldier would have a happily ever after.