Next Time.

The other day, while standing near the door inside the super market, a gent came out of the bathroom, headed to his personal cart and started heading out of the market. He made a quick stop by the ready made display of sandwiches and salads, glanced for a bit, and then continued on his way.

My heart told me to stop him. My concience said feed the man but my fears kept me from chasing after him. I’ve always been afraid of the homeless, especially the mentally ill. It frightens me that they may react poorly to my efforts, they are unpredictable and, therefore, a threat.

Lucky for me I had an answer. My Boy Scout has no such qualms and when I made my request, he beamed from ear to ear. He grabbed the sandwich, chips and potatoe salad, ran through the register and chased after our guy. He came back 5 minutes later with a defeated look and said the guy gave him the slip.

I wondered if our gent had peeked into the pharmacy or the goodwill store and, undaunted, the man ran back out. Now, when I say ran, you must understand that my man doesn’t run easy. He’s a big guy, with two fairly new knees and the effect of decades of living in tremendous pain from being hit by a drunk driver at the age of 24. He was lucky to survive. Despite that, he tracked our guy down, gave him lunch and wished him a good day. Our gent asked him if he had bought this for himself and the Boy Scout shook his head and said, “No, we got it for you”.

I wish I had that confidence. Maybe I’ll start small and build the resilience to follow my heart, become more brave over time. Meanwhile, I’ve got a good partner in crime.