Who Is the Rich One? or, 'The Man on the Street'

I’ve been feeling really bummed out, depressed lately. Unemployed and feeling useless. Didn’t want to write anything here because I want this blog to be a place for being uplifted, encouraged, comforted, maybe exhorted from time to time. But just when I’m feeling at my lowest and feeling sorry for myself, God sends someone across my path to remind me that there are people out there who are in a far worse situation than I am, and yet they bear it with such grace and faith in God. They put me to shame.

Feeling a head cold coming on and not feeling like cooking, but wanting something warm to eat, I walked to a local fast food place for some late breakfast. I can’t afford to eat out very often, yet if I do, it’s usually a cheap fast food place. While sitting inside the dining area eating I saw this presumably homeless man from his somewhat shabby, disheveled appearance come in through a side door and sit down a few seats from me at a counter. Another man whom I did not see was sitting in a booth behind me and he began talking to the guy beside me, asking him if he was hungry and walking over to give him some money to get something to eat with. He then sat down back at his booth and told the guy about the food stamp program and how it worked. The man beside me never once asked anyone for money or anything. He just quietly came, used the bathroom and sat in the dining area. After a few minutes of silence and thinking, I decided to chime in with some further information on what office location he could go to specifically for this area of town since the other guy was originally not from this part of town, and government assistance offices here in the Phoenix area each serve people according to the ZIP codes assigned to that office. The other guy behind me talked to him some more. From that conversation I learned the guy beside me had a camp somewhere up the road from there. He said his church was helping him out a lot, too. Then man behind me then told the other guy that he was homeless, too. This latter guy had bought something to eat there, finished, and walked out after that. I then saw him with his overstuffed backpack, clean and neat nevertheless, walk out the door. It then dawned on me what had just happened. One homeless man had just helped another homeless man out for a meal after seeking reassurance that he would use the money to buy something to eat with the money, not something else. The first homeless man went to order something to eat then, and I felt led to quietly go up and slip a dollar on the counter before him to insure he got enough to eat. I said not a word, just quietly went and sat back down to finish eating. After awhile when he had gotten his food, the guy thanked me and told me he knew where to go but had not had a chance to go there yet and fill out the paperwork for food stamps. Both of the homeless men were very sober, and fairly clean, in spite of their situations. Most homeless men I encounter smell strongly of alcohol and are drunk as a skunk, very belligerent, always trying to start an argument and beg for money or cigarettes. These guys were very polite and well-behaved. The guy beside me looked to be in his 40’s somewhere. The other guy was younger, probably in his late 20’s or early 30’s. The guy beside me started talking to me some more. He asked me if he could ask me a personal question. Hesitantly, I said yes, but fearing he was now going to “hit” on me and try to sweet talk his way into me taking him home and having sex with him, making him kinda my gigolo. I’ve had it happen to me before. Turns out all he wanted to know was my name. I gave him just my first name. He said he asked because he wanted to say a prayer for me that night. I thanked him. I asked him just before I left what his name was and he told me his name was Kurt. But while I was still there eating, Kurt began to talk some more. He told me how Jesus had saved him one day on the street corner just across the street. He was filthy dirty at the time, had hit bottom in his life, and was wanting to go to church but did not have a way to get there. He said most people usually thought he was “out of his mind” when he told them that, about Jesus saving him there, but it was the truth. God had also provided a way for him to get to church that day. Being a woman I did not want to appear too friendly, so I didn’t ask him details, but nodded and told him that I believed him. I told him that I was a born again Christian, too. He told me how rich he felt, in spite of his homeless situation, and how it wasn’t material goods that mattered in this life, but having Jesus in one’s heart. He told me that at one time in his life he had had nice homes, owned several nice cars and motorcycles, but that now he had nothing, nothing at all. Yet he acknowledged that all those things meant nothing, and that the only thing that really mattered was to have Jesus’ in one’s heart. So he felt rich, actually. He had the only thing that really mattered. He had a positive attitude. Gentle. Not bitter or angry. I felt in my spirit the love for God that he had in his heart. He went on to tell me how the manager of the place where we were at, John, was also a Christian. I told him that I thought so, but I wasn’t sure, because of the man’s friendly welcoming, sincere smile he greeted a person with when they came in the door, and his genuine pleasure at serving others and bringing their food to them if they ate in. Not a superficial attitude for on the job. His attitude was sincere. He makes a person feel like he/she is a welcome guest in his home. Anyway, Kurt told me how John and he were friends and how they shared books. Turned out Kurt loved to read fiction books, adventure and mystery and when he had finished with a book he would pass it on to the manager, John, to read because he liked to read also. When I heard about his love of books I was reminded that I had some books at home that I was going to donate somewhere and they were the kind of books that Kurt liked to read. I had finished with the books and don’t have much space to store things. It occurred to me that I could bring a little joy to this homeless man’s life by giving him my books even though I had not much money to give him. So I told him I liked those kind of books, too, and had some at home that I was going to give away anyway, and if he was going to be around long enough, that I would go home and get them and bring them there to him. I told him if they were books that he did not like, maybe he could pass them on to someone else who would like them. He joyfully said sure, he would do that, and he would be glad to accept the books. He said he respected books and never threw them away if he was done with one, but tried to find someone else to pass it along to who liked it. So I told him I didn’t live far from there, told him I had the books ready to go, and for him to wait there while I went home and brought them back there for him. That’s when I asked him his name and told him that I would pray for him also. I walked home, got the books in a plastic bag, and brought them to him. He was still sitting at the counter where I had left him. I handed over the books to him and just smiled and said “Enjoy!”. He smiled as he accepted them and said he had made a new friend and repeated that he would pray for me that night. I just smiled and nodded at him and left to go back home.

Afterwards I reflected on the experience. While listening to his story, I felt ashamed for my own self pity and lack of gratitude to God for all that he had given me. This man had nothing materially, not even a roof over his head, but he was content, knowing that it profits a man nothing to gain the whole world, but lose his soul. Suddenly, materially I felt rich and humbly blessed of God. Sure I had no job, but I had a roof over my head, however small and cramped, food to eat, clothes. I had family, a son, whom I love very much, living with me. We manage to get along in spite of close quarters. So who was the richer person in this story, I or the homeless man, Kurt? I would say Kurt was.