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.
Recently someone on Facebook posted something that bothered me. I didn't fly into a rage and comment viciously- I've been working on not commenting right away- or at all- when something bugs me, because often firing off a comment in the moment isn't most gracious ( more on this here ). But I've been thinking about it, so here we go. This post was about moms with messy houses, and how there is no excuse for one. People commented largely supporting this- asserting that messes are the result of laziness on the women's part, and that unless you are disabled in some way, you have no excuse. "Especially stay at home mom's," one woman, a stay-at-home mom herself, said, "I want to ask them what they do all day." Another comment agreed that the more time you have at home, the more time you have to clean, and therefore less possible reason why it should be messy. In general, it seemed agreed upon that a few books on your floor for a short amount...
Comments
Post a Comment