I pass a homeless man on the street every morning on my way
to work; an elderly gentleman who is on the street when I leave early, and
still present as come home late. He holds his magazines close to himself as he
humbly waits to make a sale. Months have passed as my hardened heart allowed me
to ignore this man, shrug him off as just another beggar who really didn’t need
my help, nor my money. Fall, winter, spring, summer, and returning to fall,
that same man stood a few blocks from my apartment. Day by day I walked passed
him, ignoring him…
I found myself trying to avoid him. He never asked for
anything, he never said anything, he simply stood on the side of the street
with a smile, waiting. My heart slowly began to break for the man standing on
the city street. I started to notice him. I started to notice the long hours he
stands, in snow, in rain, in heat, in the freezing cold. He never uttered a
word, never seen without a smile, never outwardly appearing ungrateful.
As I walked past him today, as I saw him with my dark
sunglasses, freshly washed clothing, well rested from my warm, clean,
apartment, my heart broke into a thousand pieces as I entered the train
station. I turned around, I began to sob at my own hardened heart, and I walked
back to him. I pulled out some money, I bought a magazine with tears visibly
falling from my face, and that man held out his hand and put it to my shoulder,
“thank you, son.”
They’re people too.
