He was always there. Day after day, this young fella would be standing at this intersection on a road where I travel daily. He always wore the same clothes, which looked like they hadn’t been washed in years. His shoes had no laces and were basically held together by a few strands of worn duct tape. On the ground near him lay a plastic bag with what appeared to be a towel and a few toiletry items inside.
He would never make eye contact with me. In fact, his eyes were closed much of the time. It’s a long red-light, so it’s not unusual for me to sit in traffic there for 2-3 minutes before the light turns green again. A lot of times I would observe him nodding off, struggling to stay awake, while trying to remain standing. Sometimes his hands would go limp and he’d drop his sign, and he’d quickly wake up long enough to bend over and pick it back up.
A month or so back, I decided that one of the cupholders in my car couldn’t possibly hold anymore loose change. Am I the only one who does this? Just instinctively throw coins in one of the cupholders in my car? And it’s not pennies, but mostly nickels, dimes, and quarters. I no longer bother with pennies. I find them annoying. I leave them at the counter most places nowadays.
The truth of the matter is that those pennies don’t mean anything to me. Or the nickels, dimes, and quarters, truth be told.
I take so much for granted today. I remember a time many years ago when I was rolling coins to pay for bread and sandwich meat. And today I have it so good that I now find loose change annoying and inconvenient…
A few months back I’m at this intersection. Dude is there like always. And it’s freakin cold outside. He’s shivering and had an old blanket wrapped around him to keep warm. He’d tied the sign around his neck with an old shoestring so he could keep his hands inside the blanket draped around him.
The sign read, “I’m broke and homeless. Please help.”
So I was the only one at the intersection that day. And for the first time, he looked straight at me.
He tried to force a smile, but the sadness in his eyes couldn’t hide the emptiness that suddenly overcame me. I grabbed my cup of coffee, rolled down my window to empty it so I could fill it with the coins from my cupholder, and before I could empty it – he said, “No, don’t throw that out! I’ll drink it!” So I handed him my coffee and grabbed a handful of loose change. “Here. Take this. Will you be here tomorrow?” I asked. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Probably. Thank you so, so much!”
The next day I picked up a soda and some chips at the gas station, and grabbed two cups of coffee. I also got a ziplock sandwich bag and filled it with loose change. Sure enough, dude was there again. This time we had to do a quick handoff, as the light was green and the car behind me was blaring their horn for me to go. As I sped off I could hear him yelling, “God bless you, sir!”
So each day I drove by there, this was our little thing, right. Some days it would be a coke and chips, other days it would be a chocolate milk and donuts. And I’d tuck a few dollars in the bottom of the bag. One afternoon I got the courage to pull up on the shoulder and talk with him for a couple of minutes. I asked him where he was from, and if he’d heard of the local men’s shelter in town. I also asked him if he’d like to join me one Sunday to go to church. “I’d be happy to pick you up. Maybe we could grab lunch afterward.”
He said, “Sir, that would be great!”
That was the last time I saw him. I have no idea what happened to him. He’s not been there for a month now. Maybe he moved on to another section of town. Or maybe he checked out that men’s shelter I told him about. Who really knows.
So I’ve started keeping my pennies since then. My cupholder is once again full. And maybe one day that guy will show up there again. Part of me hopes he will, but a bigger part of me prays that he’s found a place to stay.
Every single day of my life, God reminds me of just how blessed I am. I have food to eat. I have clothes to wear. I have a roof over my head.
And cupholders in my car full of loose change that I am blessed to find annoying.
Former Blackout Artist 