The wind roared through downtown Chicago like a restless spirit, sending icy gusts across the streets and rattling the windows of tall buildings. Ten-year-old Chloe Parker felt the chill all the way down to her bones. She sat on the corner of a busy intersection, her back pressed against a stone wall. The battered cardboard sign in her hands read, in shaky letters: “Just want a better tomorrow—I want to finish school.”
This December evening was brutally cold, and Chloe’s clothes provided little protection from the wind’s relentless bite. Her thin jacket was torn at the elbow, and the sneakers on her feet did nothing to shield them from the puddles of half-frozen slush. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. Anyone walking by could see the weariness in her eyes, though few bothered to look at her.
It hadn’t always been like this for Chloe. A year ago, she’d lived in a small but cozy apartment with her parents. Times were tough then, but at least they had a roof overhead. After her father lost his second job and her mother’s hours at the laundromat were cut, the rent became impossible to manage. One eviction notice later, the three of them had found themselves on the streets. Now, her dad struggled long hours as a janitor in a drafty office building, while her mom kept folding clothes at the laundromat for sparse pay. Every night, Chloe waited in a homeless shelter or, occasionally, on a street corner while her parents scraped together what they could.
Despite the adversity, Chloe clung to one hope: finishing school. She missed the comfort of a classroom, missed the hum of chatter from friends, missed the satisfaction of completing worksheets and reading library books. She wanted so badly to feel normal again.
The swirl of thoughts in her head was disrupted when the wind slapped her face with a gust of frigid air. She huddled tighter, pulling her knees closer to her chest, and glanced around at the rush of pedestrians hustling to escape the cold. A few people threw pitying glances her way, but their footsteps never slowed.
Just then, the crowd parted briefly, revealing a figure who stood head and shoulders above almost everyone else. He wore a long, padded coat and moved with the steady gait of someone well-acquainted with city life. Shaquille O’Neal—Big Shaq—had come to Chicago for an event, and while strolling through the city, he spotted Chloe’s sign. The sight of a child, alone, in such harsh conditions struck him like a physical blow.
Shaq slowed to a stop before her, crouching down so their eyes were nearly level. He noticed her cracked lips, her trembling hands, the bright determination hidden behind her exhaustion. For a moment, Chloe lifted her gaze and saw a gentle smile, warm enough to defy the icy wind.
“Hey there,” Shaq greeted softly, his voice a comforting rumble.
Chloe’s heart pounded. She’d never seen anyone so tall, let alone someone who looked at her with such genuine concern. “H-hi,” she stammered.
Shaq reached into his coat pocket and drew out a thick pair of gloves. “Put these on,” he said, offering them. “Chicago winters aren’t kind.”
With trembling gratitude, Chloe slid her fingers into the gloves. They dwarfed her small hands, but the sudden warmth felt heavenly. “Thank you,” she whispered. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes; it was rare for anyone to pause, let alone give her something so useful.
“It’s cold out here,” Shaq said, glancing at the sign she clutched. “Just want a better tomorrow—I want to finish school.” Reading it brought a pained look to his face. “What’s your name?”
“Chloe,” she answered, blinking away tears.
“Nice to meet you, Chloe. I’m Shaq. You hungry?”
She nodded, shame coloring her cheeks. She hadn’t eaten a solid meal since the day before, sharing half a sandwich with her mother.
Without another word, Shaq stood, beckoning her to follow. Unsure but trusting, Chloe rose and walked beside him down the block. Her legs were stiff from sitting against the cold concrete. Soon, they reached a small pizzeria glowing with warm light. Shaq held the door open, guiding her inside. The burst of heated air on her face felt like a miracle.
They ordered a large pizza—pepperoni with extra cheese—and while it baked, Shaq leaned down, speaking quietly so other customers wouldn’t overhear. “Where are your parents?”
Chloe explained they were at work, trying to earn enough for a motel room. She told him about missing school, about the nights in the shelter, about feeling invisible in a city full of people. Shaq listened, each word stirring a greater resolve within him.
When the pizza arrived, they took it to a corner table. Chloe devoured two slices right away, all while apologizing for eating quickly. Shaq urged her to take her time, but the poor girl was starving. Once her hunger was less urgent, he slid a cup of warm cocoa in front of her.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone in this weather,” Shaq said gently.
She nodded, brushing crumbs from her thin jacket. “I just want to help my parents somehow,” she admitted. “If I can, you know, get people to notice us, maybe we can find a place to stay… and I really want to go back to school.”
Shaq sat back, arms folded, eyes thoughtful. He had started with an impulse of compassion, but hearing Chloe’s story solidified his resolve. She wasn’t just a kid on the street—she was a bright, hopeful soul forced into a situation no child should experience.
“I can’t fix everything,” he began, “but maybe I can help.” He tugged out his phone. “Let me make a call, okay?”
Chloe watched, half-dazed. What could one call do? The next few moments blurred for her. Shaq explained a situation to someone on the other end of the line, using words like “urgent,” “somewhere warm,” and “family in need.” Chloe sipped her cocoa, feeling a strange mix of warmth, disbelief, and the faintest spark of hope.
After finishing his call, Shaq slid his phone back into his coat pocket. “All right,” he said gently. “I found a short-term place for you and your parents to stay. A friend of mine runs a community outreach program. They’ve got a safe spot reserved—an apartment someone just vacated, small but cozy. We can get you in there while you figure out the next steps.”
Chloe blinked in astonishment. “Are you… serious?”
“Dead serious,” Shaq said, breaking into a grin. “Nobody your age should worry about having a roof over their head. Especially not in Chicago’s winter.”
Tears rolled down Chloe’s cheeks. She tried to thank him, but words wouldn’t come. Shaq gently patted her shoulder. “Let’s call your parents. They’ll need to meet us here so we can head over together. I’ll make sure they’re on board, and then we’ll show them the new place.”
They stepped outside the pizzeria so Chloe could guide Shaq to the phone booth where her mother usually checked for messages. On the way, he kept an arm around her, shielding her from the wind. For the first time in months, Chloe felt safe.
A short while later, her parents arrived. Exhaustion was etched on their faces, but relief and astonishment took over when Shaq introduced himself and explained his plan. Chloe’s mother clutched her daughter, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. Her father, too overwhelmed to speak, simply nodded in gratitude, gripping Shaq’s hand with trembling thanks.
That night, the Parker family walked into a modest, two-room apartment. It wasn’t fancy, but it was warm. The couch was clean, the heating worked, and there was even a small kitchen area. Shaq had arranged for groceries to be delivered and had already spoken to a local school principal willing to help re-enroll Chloe.
When the family finally settled down, Shaq readied to leave. Chloe ran to him, hugging him around the waist, tears still in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget this.”
He smiled, ruffling her hair gently. “You stay warm, stay in school, and make me proud.”
As he left, Shaq felt that deep sense of purpose that comes from helping another human being in a profound way. He knew the real work still lay ahead for Chloe and her parents: seeking stable jobs, continuing to save money, rebuilding their lives. But he also knew that a spark of hope had been lit in their hearts.
Long after he disappeared into the cold Chicago night, the Parker family huddled together in the small apartment. The faint hum of the heater was the sweetest sound they’d heard in months. And in the corner, propped against the wall, was a piece of cardboard with the words Chloe had once held on a street corner—now a reminder that sometimes a single act of kindness can turn a desperate wish into an unbelievable reality.
Having Watched Father Donate ‘All He Had’ to the Homeless, Shaquille O’Neal Passed on the Lesson to Daughter Me’Arah With a ‘One-Armed’ Barbie
June 24, 2017; Des Moines, IA, USA; Shaquille O’Neal takes a selfie with Jovanna Medina-Cisneros, 16, Saturday, June 24, 2017, during his visit to Blank Children’s Hospital in Des Moines. O’Neal was in town for the All Iowa Sports Award. Mandatory Credit: Michael Zamora/Des Moines Register-USA TODAY NETWORK
Shaquille O’Neal is one of the wealthiest athletes on planet Earth. Having grown up surrounded by poverty, Shaq had to work hard to build his $400 million empire. But, despite all his wealth, the four-time NBA Champion has not forgotten his roots. Known for his generosity, Shaq has given back to the community on several occasions. And, as he revealed on Mo Talk with Monica, this value of charitability is something he taught to his youngest daughter, Me’Arah O’Neal with the help of a one-armed Barbie.
The Big Aristotle learned about generosity thanks to his stepfather Sgt. Phillip Harrison. Having watched him give everything he had to a homeless man once, Shaq learned to always help those in need thanks to him. And, seeing how this one lesson changed him, he hoped to pass down these same values to his children.
Shaquille O’Neal taught his daughter Me’Arah a lesson on generosity with a one-armed Barbie
Shaquille O’Neal has always been known as one of the kindest people in the world. His generosity is otherworldly, and he is always looking for ways to help out wherever he can. In addition to being generous, he also taught his children to do the same.
His kids grew up with everything they could want under the sun. But, despite his $400 million net worth, Shaq wanted them to value what they had and so enforced some rules upon them. Especially, when it came to buying them things they wanted.
In fact, he recalled in an interview with rap sensation Monica, there was an instance where a one-armed Barbie help him teach his youngest daughter Me’Arah O’Neal the value of being generous and kind. As he explained, he had a policy of buying his children five new toys as long as they gave up five old ones. And, in one instance, Me’Arah showed hesitance about giving up a one-armed Barbie. But, after taking her along with him to Salvation Army and seeing how it made another girl’s day, she learned the importance of giving back.
“So we go in, and we’re taking it to the kids, and this girl gets this one-armed Barbie in her arms and she’s loving it. And, MeMe starts crying, ‘Daddy I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to put the one-arm Barbie in there,’ I was like, ‘No! It’s all good’. Like, she thought she was in trouble, so I said, ‘No see…the reason why I make y’all get rid of toys rather than have them sit and not do anything. People need those toys. People who will love and cherish these toys.’”
It is a great story and one that should inspire other parents. After all, we can all stand to be more caring and generous just like Shaq and Me’Arah.
Shaq had displayed his generosity on a number of occasions
Shaquille O’Neal has shown just how generous he can be several times. Whether it’s on a large scale or just in everyday life, Shaq loves giving back to the community. From donating to the Girls and Boys Club of America to just simple things like helping a young man buy an engagement ring or buying two unsuspecting kids a pair of laptops.
He truly is a wonderful human being. And, one who has not forgotten about those in need. A great role model that has inspired millions around the world with his kindness.
