Lenten Story #2, the homeless
Working with prisoners every day makes me feel very close to the homeless. Many times they're just one step away from going to prison. And so this little story is not about humanity for prisoners, it's about humanity for people.
Thanks to frequent flyer miles, Marcia and I have been able spend a few days in Hawaii with our oldest son, his wife, and our two little grand-guys.
I am always touched when I see a simple act of kindness, especially where one might least expect it.
I was sitting in a little pizza joint yesterday, next to two young men who---based on the clothing they were wearing and the electronic toys they were playing with---had few money problems. They nibbled away at a pizza, and stopped at the half-way mark. "Do you want me to put the rest in a box," asked the lady behind the bar. "Naw, we're just going for a walk down the beach."
"Then do me a favor," the bartender persisted. "I'll box up the pizza, and when you run across some of the homeless people on the beach, give it to them. I know you can argue about whether they should be working. Just forget that for now. They're hungry. I hate to throw good food into the garbage!"
The young men agreed, and they were gone.
Things got busy after that, and although I meant to, I didn't get the opportunity to thank that woman. I probably won't see her again in my lifetime, but I asked God to thank her.
She caught the message of Proverbs 22, because gender isn't the issue here:
A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor.
Thanks to frequent flyer miles, Marcia and I have been able spend a few days in Hawaii with our oldest son, his wife, and our two little grand-guys.
I am always touched when I see a simple act of kindness, especially where one might least expect it.
I was sitting in a little pizza joint yesterday, next to two young men who---based on the clothing they were wearing and the electronic toys they were playing with---had few money problems. They nibbled away at a pizza, and stopped at the half-way mark. "Do you want me to put the rest in a box," asked the lady behind the bar. "Naw, we're just going for a walk down the beach."
"Then do me a favor," the bartender persisted. "I'll box up the pizza, and when you run across some of the homeless people on the beach, give it to them. I know you can argue about whether they should be working. Just forget that for now. They're hungry. I hate to throw good food into the garbage!"
The young men agreed, and they were gone.
Things got busy after that, and although I meant to, I didn't get the opportunity to thank that woman. I probably won't see her again in my lifetime, but I asked God to thank her.
She caught the message of Proverbs 22, because gender isn't the issue here:
A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor.
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