Three Stories

One very hot day, I was wandering around an art festival in Palo Alto, California. A thin, middle-aged man was leaning against a shady building wall. He had a shopping cart full of clothes and small, varied items jumbled together. He had long grey wavy hair and a lean, weathered look that reminded me of Willie Nelson. We ended up in conversation and he asked me for money, saying that he wanted to buy some food. I offered to buy him lunch at the Subway nearby.

We entered the highly air-conditioned Subway and I asked him what size sandwich he’d like. “Twelve inch.” And what kind? “Tuna fish.” We chatted while they were making his sandwich. He made some comments on my appearance and asked me if I was married. As he leaned in to talk, I could smell alcohol on his breath. We walked back to his cart. The heat was a shock after the super cold air conditioning. He sat down to eat half of the sandwich and tucked the other part into the cart “to save for later”. He munched away and we said goodbye. As I was walking away, I noticed . . well, that tuna-fish didn’t seem to set well in his stomach. I thought of the other half of the sandwich - how long would it be any good sitting out on a hot day like this?

Another time, on a cold winter day with a sharp wind blowing, I saw a young woman, sitting on the ground by a lamppost in the Bear Creek Shopping Center parking lot. I had errands at Rite Aid and Safeway. I tried not to stare at her but I was wondering about her. She had no sign. She wore a bulky sweater but no coat, no hat, no gloves. Her legs and arms were curled up close to her core.

I did my errands. When I returned to the car, I put my packages away and walked over. No, she had nowhere to stay. Yes, she had looked into homeless shelters and there was going to be a place for her in one in just a day or two. I handed her my gloves and hat. I may have given her some money. Then I got back in my car, but didn’t start it. I got back out and offered her my jacket, a light Costco puffy thing, not very warm. She wrapped it around herself. I wondered if it might fit better under the bulky sweater.

Another time, perhaps five years ago, I was on a routine shopping trip to the Redmond Fred Meyer. As I was parking the car, I noticed a young man hanging around. He asked if I could spare him a dollar for some groceries. I waved him away and went on towards the store. But, before I entered, I had a pang and turned back to talk to the young man. I told him that I felt that God was telling me to do so. I don’t recall much of his story now but he had come up from south county, looking into a job. He had almost no money and hoped to buy some food before catching a bus back to his home or wherever he was hanging out. I offered to buy him $50 worth of groceries.

So the young man and I grabbed a shopping cart and went up and down the aisles together. He had definite ideas about what was a good buy, and how to stretch a dollar. For example, when I suggested whole wheat bread instead of white, he directed my attention to the cost difference. The final tab came up to just $50, though he did the calculations in his head. We parted in a friendly fashion in the parking lot and then I went back in the store to do my own shopping.

I share these stories to invite your own and your advice. I’m sad that I don’t remember the names of these people that I met. I have a sense that I need to get beyond fear and inadequacy, that there exists some way to prepare for these kinds of meetings. May God open my mind and heart in mercy and wisdom.

“But whoever has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?” 1 John 3:17