Irony and Reality Strike Again!

Yesterday I passed a woman sitting outside Walmart at Cofer Crossing. Her plaintive eyes, heightened by a cowering, head weaving, painful countenance, would have melted even the hardest heart. It melted mine.

The moment was worthy of a Dicken's novel/movie, and she played her role perfectly. The scene was completed with a rather sloppily hand-written message on a bright yellow/green poster board that said something about 5 hungry children at home and no money. I smiled, indicating I would see her when I came out. This is nothing new for us. We always give something to people asking for help, so all I needed was a chance to get a few bucks in change and hand it to her when I left.

While inside, I thought about the message Sunday morning that called on us to do more than pass by people in need, but to get involved, speak, smile and send love vibes - with our gifts. The idea almost came across that needy people want our love more than our money, but the preacher didn't go quite that far. So yesterday, I decided to do more than smile and hand her a couple of bucks. In fact, I shifted from giving her a dollar or two to parting with a precious "fiver", a Lincoln not a Washington.

Then I decided to do something creative and fun for her. I bought her a gift card for Walmart, figuring they had everything she needed. I have always believe in giving choices to people we help, even if they abuse the gift on something frivolous. That's their problem, not mine. I want to give them both a gift and the dignity to spend it however they choose.

When I went outside to leave,  she was still there, and a convenient cement stoop enabled me to sit down to chat and be warm and fuzzy. I asked her name. She answered, smiling while feverishly digging for something in her purse. I figured it was pictures of the children. Instead she whipped out a wrinkled yellow form, pointing to a number that was, I suppose,  her balance due on something. It was around $135.00. I acted interested, hoping she would feel my gringo warmth and be blessed.

She kept bobbing and smiling, anticipating my gift, and since she spoke virtually no English, and I no Spanish, I decided to give her the card and be gone. Written on its small envelope was a simple witness that I hoped would do wonders for Jesus: "From a  Christian friend".

Just as I was handing her the card, using my improvised sign language to say it was for Walmart, she exposed that she knew enough English to ask: "How much?" I held up five fingers and said 5 dollars... credit... inside".

Here's where the fun starts. At that very meaningful minute, the bestowal of the actual gift,  a young suburban-type anglo woman swooped by, and almost tossed a 20 dollar bill her way, without comment, and mysteriously disappeared into the traffic flow, almost like an angel. The lady with the bright sign, spotting the twenty, immediately forget all about me and my measly little gift card, and began scrambling and shouting: "Thank you! God bless you! God bless you!"

Convinced the big fish was gone,  she turned back to me, pointed a the card, almost disappointed and asked a second time, "How much?" I sheepishly held up my five, suddenly embarrassed fingers,  and said: "5 dollars". She looked at me like I was a piker and softly mumbled, "Thank you. God bless you." - in her best five dollar tone and volume.

I know the point of giving isn't to receive shouted, "Thank you! God bless you! God bless you!'s" for everyone to hear. Nor should we be overly concerned about what others do.  I did the right thing so I ought to feel good etc. Truthfully, I wasn't upset. In fact, I was amused. And, from that encounter, I immediately learned that an impersonally tossed Jackson always trumps a warm fuzzy Lincoln. I can't wait to tell the preacher.

I will continue to try following my "spiritual" leadings, but they don't always turn out like the sermons and story books say they ought to. Sharing myself, and my wonderfully warm smile, didn't move this lady's emotional meter-needle when compared to a briskly tossed, impersonal twenty from a fleeting, completely uninvolved woman who did't stop, smile or say a boo!

Irony and reality strike again!