Existential Humanity: A Truth
He holds one sign while another is taped to the back of a more-than-well-worn jacket. The sign reads as follows:
Vietnam Vet
Homeless
Very Poor
Please Help
He has a friendly face. He sports a big white beard and some obviously tired shoes. His clothes appear far from new; he wears hat touting memories of his time in the service. He has kind but weary eyes. He could be an alcoholic or maybe he isn't. He could be schizophrenic, but maybe he's not. He could be your neighbor, your uncle, your best friend, your banker, the clerk at the grocery store. He could be your arch nemesis or your best friend. He could be any of these things, but I know only the following...
He's a Vietnam Vet
He's Homeless
He's Very Poor
And he is looking for Help
Today was our second encounter with this individual. Previously, we crossed paths a few weeks back. It was cold, much colder than today. It was snowing just a bit--the wet, soggy, oh-so-typical-Chicago variety of precipitation. The six of us were in the angel van when we saw his figure in the dusk. Bear, our ever-perceptive five year old, said, "Mom? This guy looks like he needs help. Why is he outside when it's snowing like this?" Upon this statement, a discussion about homelessness, appreciation, love, empathy, compassion, and gratitude ensued. While our girls are too young (developmentally and chronologically speaking), our son...he really "got" it. I hunted about my wallet to find my remaining cash--a crumpled five dollar bill--and handed it to K. to pass through his window. I could scarcely make out the features of his face, but a quiet voice thanked K. profusely and ended with a "God bless you".
I thought about this man for hours that night. As I snuggled up under blankets in a heated home, I thought about "haves" and "have nots". I don't know his story, this man's. He could be vicious, feeding a dire addiction, down on his luck, or simply out of options. He could be faking it for all I know. He could be a sociologist, or he could be psychopath. But at the end of the day, it simply doesn't matter. It doesn't. While our current financial state leaves a bit to be desired, we *have*. We have each other, a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and more material items than we *need*. And as down on our luck as we have been in the past, we've always had enough. In my opinion, even if you're just getting by, you have enough. It might not be comfortable, but at the end of the day...it's still enough.
Today, we saw the same man, wearing the same clothes, shoes, and jacket, toting the same weathered signs. We were roughly ten miles from the spot where we first encountered this man, but today...the sun was shining. At the stoplight, I frantically searched through my wallet for something to give him. Empty. I looked in the angel van's cup holders, felt about under the seat for a moment. Nothing. But before the light changed, a five dollar bill seemed to float from the bottom of my bag to the top. I rolled down my window and he approached the angel van. "Thanks so much, hon. Really," he said. Pausing but not missing a beat, he flashed a million dollar smile and said, "And hey, I really like your hair". I thanked him, wished him well, and we drove away. We drove back to our heated home, with our full pantry and secure shelter. We are the "haves", not the "have nots". It's easy to think things are so impossibly trying, that our hardships definitively exemplify the very word "hard". A few hours later, Bear turned to me and said, "I'm glad we could help that man out again, mama. Maybe we'll even see him again."
At home, I found a five dollar bill under a stack of papers I hadn't given so much as a glance in several days. It's in my wallet now, but it's earmarked for a purpose that is outside of a cup of gas station coffee and a single gallon of gas. One of the most amazing people I know once said "we are all in this thing called 'life' together". Of the lessons I've learned in my thirty-one years, this is probably one of the most poignant and profound. To the man outside, asking for help while watching countless people shift their eyes to avoid your gaze, hang on. I pray that your life will improve dramatically and if we never see you again, I hope it is because the winds changed and your luck has shifted. But should we cross paths again, I will have another crumpled five dollar bill for you. And from this point on, I will never be without one no matter what it takes. And the moment my eyes lay sight on your figure, it's yours. It's not much, but it's yours all the same. It might not make a bit of difference in the big picture, but I hope that, in some tiny way, it helps out with even the most insignificant of everyday living--even if it's something the "haves" of this world take for granted. A cup of coffee, a gas station sandwich, a bus ride--hell, an addition to your cigarette fund--whatever...I hope you know that I am tied to you as much as I am tied to Bill Gates. We are all tied together. And I am grateful for this.
Hang on, my friend, in this crazy life and sometimes messy world. Thank you for your service to our country, and please keep your head up even in the moments when you feel as though you are no longer waving but drowning. I have hope the sun will rise for you, and the darkest hour--always just before dawn--will one day be a distant memory. Hang on, my friend. Please just hang on.
Vietnam Vet
Homeless
Very Poor
Please Help
He has a friendly face. He sports a big white beard and some obviously tired shoes. His clothes appear far from new; he wears hat touting memories of his time in the service. He has kind but weary eyes. He could be an alcoholic or maybe he isn't. He could be schizophrenic, but maybe he's not. He could be your neighbor, your uncle, your best friend, your banker, the clerk at the grocery store. He could be your arch nemesis or your best friend. He could be any of these things, but I know only the following...
He's a Vietnam Vet
He's Homeless
He's Very Poor
And he is looking for Help
Today was our second encounter with this individual. Previously, we crossed paths a few weeks back. It was cold, much colder than today. It was snowing just a bit--the wet, soggy, oh-so-typical-Chicago variety of precipitation. The six of us were in the angel van when we saw his figure in the dusk. Bear, our ever-perceptive five year old, said, "Mom? This guy looks like he needs help. Why is he outside when it's snowing like this?" Upon this statement, a discussion about homelessness, appreciation, love, empathy, compassion, and gratitude ensued. While our girls are too young (developmentally and chronologically speaking), our son...he really "got" it. I hunted about my wallet to find my remaining cash--a crumpled five dollar bill--and handed it to K. to pass through his window. I could scarcely make out the features of his face, but a quiet voice thanked K. profusely and ended with a "God bless you".
I thought about this man for hours that night. As I snuggled up under blankets in a heated home, I thought about "haves" and "have nots". I don't know his story, this man's. He could be vicious, feeding a dire addiction, down on his luck, or simply out of options. He could be faking it for all I know. He could be a sociologist, or he could be psychopath. But at the end of the day, it simply doesn't matter. It doesn't. While our current financial state leaves a bit to be desired, we *have*. We have each other, a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and more material items than we *need*. And as down on our luck as we have been in the past, we've always had enough. In my opinion, even if you're just getting by, you have enough. It might not be comfortable, but at the end of the day...it's still enough.
Today, we saw the same man, wearing the same clothes, shoes, and jacket, toting the same weathered signs. We were roughly ten miles from the spot where we first encountered this man, but today...the sun was shining. At the stoplight, I frantically searched through my wallet for something to give him. Empty. I looked in the angel van's cup holders, felt about under the seat for a moment. Nothing. But before the light changed, a five dollar bill seemed to float from the bottom of my bag to the top. I rolled down my window and he approached the angel van. "Thanks so much, hon. Really," he said. Pausing but not missing a beat, he flashed a million dollar smile and said, "And hey, I really like your hair". I thanked him, wished him well, and we drove away. We drove back to our heated home, with our full pantry and secure shelter. We are the "haves", not the "have nots". It's easy to think things are so impossibly trying, that our hardships definitively exemplify the very word "hard". A few hours later, Bear turned to me and said, "I'm glad we could help that man out again, mama. Maybe we'll even see him again."
At home, I found a five dollar bill under a stack of papers I hadn't given so much as a glance in several days. It's in my wallet now, but it's earmarked for a purpose that is outside of a cup of gas station coffee and a single gallon of gas. One of the most amazing people I know once said "we are all in this thing called 'life' together". Of the lessons I've learned in my thirty-one years, this is probably one of the most poignant and profound. To the man outside, asking for help while watching countless people shift their eyes to avoid your gaze, hang on. I pray that your life will improve dramatically and if we never see you again, I hope it is because the winds changed and your luck has shifted. But should we cross paths again, I will have another crumpled five dollar bill for you. And from this point on, I will never be without one no matter what it takes. And the moment my eyes lay sight on your figure, it's yours. It's not much, but it's yours all the same. It might not make a bit of difference in the big picture, but I hope that, in some tiny way, it helps out with even the most insignificant of everyday living--even if it's something the "haves" of this world take for granted. A cup of coffee, a gas station sandwich, a bus ride--hell, an addition to your cigarette fund--whatever...I hope you know that I am tied to you as much as I am tied to Bill Gates. We are all tied together. And I am grateful for this.
Hang on, my friend, in this crazy life and sometimes messy world. Thank you for your service to our country, and please keep your head up even in the moments when you feel as though you are no longer waving but drowning. I have hope the sun will rise for you, and the darkest hour--always just before dawn--will one day be a distant memory. Hang on, my friend. Please just hang on.
Posted by courtney at 2/2/2012 9:40 PM 
Categories: uncategorized
Tags: life lessons truth humanity love humankind haves and have nots really deep thoughts
Categories: uncategorized
Tags: life lessons truth humanity love humankind haves and have nots really deep thoughts
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