Today I had breakfast with Roger.

He was sitting outside Starbucks when my husband dropped me off there on his way to work. I asked him if he’d like a coffee. Someone had already given him a breakfast sandwich, I noticed. He said yes, with cream and sugar.
I came back a few minutes later with his coffee and my tea, and asked if I could sit with him. He said yes, again, and so I sat. We ate our sandwiches and sipped our drinks in our hands, warm defenses against the cold morning.
We talked for about a half an hour. Sometimes we just sat, quiet, watching the wind. Or at least I was watching the wind, he may have just been watching the pavement and waiting to see if I would catch his many hints at wanting me to give him $5.96 for chewing tobacco. I pretended not to notice.
He told me about his work- with horses, for the past 54 years- and a little about him growing up. I assume he is homeless, though he never said so right out, and I never asked. Several times it seemed he was waiting for me to get bored and leave, or be satisfied with my good deed of the day and leave. I didn’t.
I talked to him like I would talk to any elderly person. Respectful, unhurried, asking questions. I wanted him to know I was not there to check “Good Samaritan” off of my religious checklist, or to feel better about myself. I was just there to talk to him.
From now on, I will try to have breakfast with Roger every week. He may not want me to. I know he prefers the company of horses to that of people. But I will not leave room for him to believe that he is alone, that no one cares, that no one notices. He seems determined to see the worst in mankind, and I sympathize, but I am stubborn- I will not let there be only bad available for him to see.
I will not allow Christ to go unnoticed by this man.