Today, as I was leaving Wal-Mart after a trip there to get dryer sheets (seeing as how I lost the ones I purchased on Saturday before I even got to use them) and an exersaucer (because the used ones I've found are just about as expensive as a new one), I pulled up to a stop sign, where an elderly man was standing with a cardboard sign.
It read, "Trying to get HOME. Anything will help for my bus tickets."
Despite the four vehicles behind me, I put the truck in park and rolled down the passenger window, and stuck my hand in my pocket, pulling out a small wad of dollar bills that I had been carrying around for about a week.
He looked at me kind of quizzically at first, and came up to the window. I handed him the cash and he nodded at me.
He proceeded to tell me that he is trying to head 'home' to Montana, to surprise a son he hasn't seen in many years. He wants to make amends since he is turning his life around, but has no job, no car, and no money. He said nothing about whether he was homeless or not, so I do not know.
I felt peaceful giving him the money. I had no apprehension. In fact, I felt completely compelled to give it to him.
As he walked away, he told me "I pray that God blesses you."
I smiled at him and said, "Same to you."
I feel like he was telling me a truthful story. Who am I to judge and say that he wasn't? I know there are many out there who would criticize me for giving money, saying "oh, he'll just buy booze or drugs." Well, pfft to you. You don't know that either.
Truthful or not, it sometimes makes us feel better to believe the best of people.
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