We may have the best of intentions, in our eyes. We may consider ourselves to be loving people. But if you are like me, maybe there is just one person that you think you could do without seeing. Maybe you are worried because you think he or she is annoying, smells bad, scares you, or just plain freaks you out. Perhaps it is someone you are embarrassed to be around because... what would other people think of you?
I thought I was innocent of this, until recently.
A few days ago I was standing inside a crowded bus shelter when I encountered him. It was a guy from the street I have seen and avoided; many times before. In his mid forties, he stood about 5 foot 7, with reddish hair balding. On his head was a Santa hat of red and white plush. He wore a grey sweatshirt, and faded jeans that rode above his ankles. He carried a plastic beach bag full of random items: stuffed animals, magazines; and who knows what else.
Yes this was a man I had certainly seen before. From the days he would ride his pink Huffy bicycle past my house, or the times I saw him downtown; at the local thrift store, or in the coffee shops. ‘Not out of disrespect; have I always avoided him,’ Or at least that is what I silently told myself. ‘He is a stranger, after all. He clearly has mental problems. He might be dangerous.’ I was sure that God understood my reasoning for staying away from this guy. On this particular day I had no choice but to stay where I was. He stood blocking the entry of into the bus shelter, and it was pouring rain outside.
The strange man came and stood next to me. His Santa hat was dripping wet and soiled. “ H—H-- How are you doing?” He asked me with a slight stutter.
“ I am fine.” I said as politely as I could. (I was not about to encourage conversation!)
“ Rain… don’t like it.” He muttered.
“Uh huh,” I said with a calm voice; but inside I was shuddering, and silently praying.
Dear Lord, this is awkward… please help me know what to do…
Then the man muttered something I couldn’t understand. Reaching into his pink plastic beach bag, he pulled out a flyer from a local restaurant. He turned and looked at me, and then pointed to the flyer. “—One of these d—d—days, you and me gonna go…out to lunch.”
I honestly didn’t know how to respond to his invitation. I am ashamed to say that I pretended not to understand what he meant. What else could I have done in such an awkward spot? “That’s nice…”I replied, then looked down at my shoes.
Lord, was that dishonest of me? …Yes… it probably was. What would you have preferred me to say?
It was still pouring rain outside, and he was still blocking the entrance. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him turn and look away from me. I took this opportunity to turn and look at his features. What stood out to me the most were his beady eyes. They looked so sad and miserable. And as I looked at his eyes, something happened to my own eyes. I saw him differently. I saw him in the way God probably would have preferred me to see him all along. Whatever awkwardness I had felt; it was suddenly gone. My heart filled with compassion.
In one hand, the strange man tightly clutched the two quarters he would need to take a bus ride somewhere else. In the other hand, the pink plastic beach bag with all of the stuff animals and other random items.
Soon a bus came, and I watched as he darted towards it frantically. He did not say goodbye, I did not say goodbye. One minute he was inviting me out to lunch, the next minute he had vanished.
“Who is this man?” I thought to myself. I have heard from several different sources a story of his background. I am told he used to be a brilliant professor at the local university. I have been told a sad tale that one day years ago, something happened to him and his mind went. “He has been wandering the streets ever since…” They tell me. Yet how do I know all this to be true?
One thing I know to be certain. The Lord has once again, taught me something that I thought I already knew. And those beady eyes. I will never forget those sad, beady eyes.
Matthew 25:40 “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”
A Side Note:
My sister Rachel brought up something I don't think I was clear enough explaining in my article.
Here are our comments to eachother from this morning:
Rachel said...
True enough, but do be careful of street people. Ignoring them is often the wisest thing to do, and for a young woman by herself to do so is smart, not uncompassionate.
7:08 AM
Emily said...
You are absolutely right. I failed to clarify this is my blog article. My compassion for strangers on the street will NOT include going out to lunch with them. I don't want to do anything to endanger myself.
However, from now on, I will think of those strangers around me differently. They too, are people who deserve our prayers.
10:30 AM
