Paying Forward

In Southern California, it seems every street corner has  a bereft looking person holding a sign.  "Will work for food".  "Will work for rent".  Homeless Veteran need food".  Sadly, in the midst of legitimate suffering are those who actually prey on peoples' sensitive nature for a living.  They're easy to spot, after awhile.  They're the aggressive ones, the in-your-face-gimme-money kind.  Many of them look well fed.  There are no vacant gazes, no blind stares.  Every once in awhile I see one with a cell phone to his ear as he stands there wanting us to believe he's in need.

It took me awhile to figure out most of those people weren't really destitute.  They had fashioned a job out of begging.  Some of them probably make more money than I do at their chosen occupation.

Then there are the ones who truly are bereft. 

There was a man sitting outside my local 7-eleven the other day.  Just sitting.  Head leaning back, a small smile on his face, eyes closed, enjoying the sunshine on our first really warm day in ages.  A rusted bicycle was next to him.  There hung from the handlebars two bags.  One had clothing in it, the other held empty soda cans destined for the recycler.

He wasn't begging.  Wasn't disturbing anyone.  Just enjoying a fine day.  He  was ageless in the way that homeless people usually are.  Skin like leather from being in the sun all day, every day.  Sun-bleached blond hair hanging in his eyes.  Streaks of clean on his mostly dirty face, as if he had tried his best to make himself presentable.

I went into the store for whatever it was I was buying.  Can't remember.  Did some small calculations in my mind to think about what my little bank balance was.  And on a whim got $5 cash back when I paid with my debit card.

The look on his face when I handed him that $5 paid me back in triplicate.  He gave me the biggest, warmest, most sincere smile I had seen in awhile, stood up slowly, shook my hand, and said simply, "Thank you.  Many blessings to you".

We talked for a minute.  He was full of hope about a job that had been promised to him.  He insisted his current situation was only temporary.  I could see he was eager to find a use for his new-found wealth so I said goodbye and wished him well.

I got in my car and started it up to head home to the roof over my head and all of my accumulated "stuff".  He headed into 7-eleven for a hotdog.

Small things make us happy.  I think that's the best $5 I've spent in awhile.