The One At The Waterfront

I hesitated telling this story. I am a firm believer that if you continuously shout what good you are doing in this life, that warm fuzzy feeling and the applause of others might be all you ever get.
However I also believe that stories need to be shared, because we are in fact, all in this together.

I have befriended a homeless man in my hometown. He lives on the benches at the waterfront. He tells me that he has somewhere to go when it is cold or raining, but I'm not sure. He is always alone.
I first saw him when my husband and I were having lunch on a beautiful Spring day at the waterfront. Bojangles chicken. And sweet tea. I noticed him lying there, a filled trash bag beside him with all that he owned in it....another one filled and used as his pillow.  Now, I love my fried chicken and I've been known to get doubles of that dirty rice, but as we ate, I felt my appetite kinda dwindling, highly unusual for me. When he sat up and begin looking over at us from a distance, I knew that I would be taking chicken and dirty rice home that day.
"I wonder if he is hungry."
My husband didn't say a word as I got up and started walking.
"You hungry?"
He said it fast, nodding his head. "Yeah. Yeah I am."
"What would you like?"
Again, fast. "Chicken. Bojangles chicken. And some french fries. And sweet tea. Large".
He smiled and I smiled.
"Be right back."

I've seen him a lot since that day, six months ago. He is always alone. He had a bicycle for a while, with a basket to carry his life. Sometimes when I stop, he has food already. There are others caring for him. On those occasions, I just hand him money for his next meal. He rarely says thank you, he just smiles. He's a fairly young man. Somewhat mentally challenged. Sometimes he knows exactly what he wants. "Big Mac, large fries and sweet tea." Fast. When he knows what he wants, he always says it fast. Other times, he thinks. For several minutes. He has never asked for a seafood dinner. He has never asked for money. It's always something simple. He knows our truck now. And Eli. He knows Eli.

I took the boys with me one day. I wanted them to meet him. He already had food that day so I introduced him to my grand boys and handed him a little money. He smiled. As we were leaving, my youngest turned around and suddenly asked, "Hey. Do you know Jesus?"
My friend smiled at Chandler and said, "Yes.   I've known Him all my life."

Sometimes when I ride by, and he is there, and I look over and he has food, I don't stop.
Sometimes I wonder what he does with the money.
Sometimes he isn't there.

Tonight we rode by the waterfront. He was there, on the bench. He raised up when he saw the truck, Eli in the back. I was in a bit of a hurry to get home, so I was kinda hoping he was eating. He wasn't. I didn't see his bicycle. Just the trash bags.

I went over, said hello and reached out the money to him. He didn't take it. He didn't say anything. He just looked at me. His eyes were sad and questioning.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes ma'm."

"What would you like?"

Fast. "Wendy's cheeseburger with ketchup, mustard and pickles. French fries. Large. And can I have a Frosty? Vanilla? A medium one?"

"Be right back."


I've never been hungry. He didn't take the money. Most would have taken the money.

Tonight I saw hungry.  And it broke my heart.

Dear Lord, he has known you all his life. Thank you for taking care of him. Open my eyes.
It could have been me. Me, on the outside. Help me to always remember that.

We are all in this.......together.