Full Circle

I pulled up to my local nieghborhood gas station the other night needing to top off my tank with some overpriced unleaded fuel. With my heavy coat and Japanese scarf keeping me warm I started the pump before deciding to run in and get some cash out of the ATM. I needed cash for something going on the next day, plus the temperature was below freezing and I needed the warmth of the mini-mart that sat across the lot.

As I approached the front of the mini-mart he was there in all his glory begging for 85 to 90-cents. With barely a coat hanging on him and a gas can in his left hand I thought it was an odd amount to be asking for. I cut him short with the same story I have given him before, many times before in fact. “I don’t carry cash sir, only plastic,” I responded and continued on inside the brightly lit store.

I slid down the candy isle then past the chips and pretzel stand before I stood at the ATM. I was a bit apprehensive to get some cash out considering I just denied the stranger outside the dirty windows his request for less than a dollar. However, I proceeded to carry on with my transaction when the chime of the front door rang. I glanced over to see a cleaned up gentleman walk in and I was slightly relieved it wasn’t the stranger outside. I didn’t want him to see me there in all my glory feeling guilty for denying him something so simple. I stood there staring out the front windows trying to see if the man was outside as I reached down to grab my twenties out of the machine. It was freezing outside with the fog laying low on the street and I was shivering with my layered clothes on. I decided right there that I could break my habit and for once give this stranger a dollar or two. He simply asked for less than that and maybe for once I could hand over more than that. With the cash in my hand I began to think of the scripture that states, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Jesus says this in one of his parables when he talks about needing to be fed, clothed, invited in, etc.

I stepped up to the front counter asking the pale teenage-looking cashier to break one of my twenties and to be sure to give me five ones among that. Reaching up he handed me my change as I put three ones in my coat pocket and secured the rest in my wallet that I placed inside my coat. Though the empty gas container was in the stranger’s left hand I assumed he wanted cash for some drugs or alcohol. At this point in the freezing night I didn’t care what he wanted it for. If it meant a drink that would keep him warm then I wanted him to partake. If it meant he could step inside somewhere warm to get something inside a store then I wanted him to. I don’t ever give to anyone who begs me, but there are times I’ve wanted to hand over my change to those beggars whose signs show honesty. The ‘Will Work For Food’ sign doesn’t make me believer, but the “Need Money For Alcohol” does and sometimes I want to give them 50-cents because they are being honest for what they are begging for. However, I usually keep my hands in my pocket, nose in the air and continue walking past those that beg in my city.

I proceeded out the front door feeling the freezing air hit my face as I looked over to where the beggar had been standing earlier. The sidewalk was empty. I scanned the entire parking lot and caught a glimpse of one older lady filling up her Ford one pump over from my car. My right hand held onto the three bucks in my pocket but I felt it ease up once I realized he was gone. I felt empty for a second and slightly disappointed in myself for not acting sooner as I walked back to my car. After topping off my tank I slid into my front seat and started my car as I turned the heat up to high. I continued scanning the parking lot hoping to see this man walk back into the well-lit area as I put my car in drive. I exited the parking lot wondering what happened to this man thinking maybe someone else helped him out.

I had dinner with a good friend last night at a local neighborhood establishment. After an hour or so of conversing and filling up our stomachs we said our goodbyes and parted our ways. As I walked down the steps into the parking lot where my car sat I was approached by this same beggar from a few nights earlier. Looking just as frail and torn up as he was a few nights ago he asked if I was interested in buying some weed from him. Shaking my head in disbelief that I ran into him again I walked past him and said, “I don’t carry cash sir, only plastic.”