Dear Theophilous,
I used to be like pretty much everybody else. Whenever we
would venture into downtown Toronto, I’d be on the lookout; making wide detours
when needed; directing my son’s attention the other way.
Then something changed. I can really pinpoint a moment in
time when it happened. It was more of a gradual process than an Epiphany
experience. But somewhere along the line, my heart softened. I began to see the
homeless as human, created in the image of God, and deserving of the dignity
that entails.
I had often heard the old argument for not giving money to
the homeless: They’ll just use it on
drugs. But then I began to wonder, what if a few coins were all they had to
get a meal for the day, or week even. I realized I could no longer ignore these
poor souls.
My new resolution to do something firmly in mind made for an
awkward encounter our next trip into the big city. Seeing a homeless man ahead,
his up-turned hat on the sidewalk, I was ready to make good on my promise to
help out, even if it was to be only a few small coins. Hand fumbling through my
pocket, I soon realized that in our cashless society, I had nothing in my
wallet but plastic and large bills. Sheepishly I walked by, avoiding eye
contact as I had done so many times before.
I learned my lesson. Now I go prepared. Before any excursion
into the city, whether it’s for a sporting event or dinner out, I pillage our
spare change jar, making sure I have at least $10 to $20 in coins in my pocket
- $1 to $2 for each person we might come across in our travels.
I will do this when we’re going out as a family, or if I’m
heading to a sporting event as a friend. While others will circle around the
homeless sitting on the sidewalk, I will walk by, dropping a couple coins in
their hat or cup, look them in the eye and give them a short “God bless.”
The reaction I have gotten has ranged from silence to a
mumbled “God bless you too.” To a thankful 6pm: “You’re the first one today.”
The reactions of friends and family have been initial fear
and embarrassment, which slowly give way to a certain humbleness. My son will
now even look for these opportunities when we foray into the city.
Still, I understand that some people are remain leery about
giving cash to the homeless (no matter how small the amount). My brother-in-law
and his family have found a great way around this quandary. Every so often they
will descend into the heart of downtown with a mission in mind. They will buy a
dozen or so hamburgers from a local fast-food chain (nothing fancy, just a
simple burger) and hand those out to the people they come across on the street.
A beautiful gesture that will fill a belly, at least for a day.
**Addendum**
Just last week we went to a junior hockey game in the town
next to ours. We were with a service group that my son belongs to, so to give
him his independence I passed him $20 and sat a few rows away. Throughout the
game I watched him come and go, laughing with his friends; and as we walked out
after the final buzzer his grin told me he had had a fantastic time. Making our
way along the cold snowy streets to our car, he spotted a homeless man sitting on
the corner, cup in hand, ignored by the throngs leaving the arena. Silently, without
any prompting my son let his hand slip from mine and he walked over, digging
the change out of his pocket to drop in the poor man’s cup.
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