It happened today

It happened today. I saw him and took pity. Old and overweight. A dirty T-shirt and cheap Walmart velcro shoes. He carried an old metal folding chair. Shuffling slowly across the street, he opened the door of the Taco Bell, asked for a water cup (only) and found his place at a table close to us.

He had a speech impetiment and I could barely understand him. “Just come from church?” he mumbled over to me.

“Yes.” I said.

He sat there for 20 minutes. Drinking his ice water. Playing on his phone. Listening to old gospel hymns, including some of my favorites. Johnny Cash’s “Take My Hand, Precious Lord” played and he sang along poorly stumbling over the words.

He tried to say something else to me. But I didn’t understand. I smiled back awkwardly and tried to get my kids not to stare.

It happened today: I saw an American beggar. And I didn’t give generously. Not like I would have in Asia.

I averted my eyes. I felt pity, but I didn’t rend my heart. I didn’t show mercy or compassion. I didn’t remember his words (or didn’t obey them, anyway):

“Whatever you did for the least of these…”

It happened today. But it won’t happen again.

Tomorrow, I will remember.

Author’s note: I saw this man again months later in a different location in our city. I had cash and I was generous. I handed him the money and he said, “God bless you, Ma’am.”

I offered that act of love to God and said, “Today, I remembered. For the least of these. For you.”