Truly Homeless

By Michael Allen

June 13, 2008

This post is going to be added to a new category here on the blog, “Truly Homeless”. I will link to other sites and blogs on this subject as I find them. If you know of any, please comment here and let me know so I can link to them for all our readers to know about. Along with my passion for helping people own a home, as you can imagine I have a passion for helping the truly homeless.

He was just another homeless person going up to the stopped cars asking for a handout. I was leaving the supermarket on the way to pay a late electric bill. It was only a week before Christmas and business had been terrible recently. As a result I could not get the gifts I really wanted for my family and was feeling beyond stressed and depressed: I was seriously despondent.

Funny, he was not at the stoplight but at the exit of the supermarket parking lot on the wrong side, dodging the cars turning in off the street. There was a line of cars coming and I could see it would be some time before I could get onto the street, so I rolled my window down and waved him over. Pulling out my wallet, I had no ones, so I pulled out a five and folded it. Coming up to my window in the Army surplus overcoat two sizes too big for his thin frame, he saw the folded bill and said, “thank you sir!” as he took it. Then, half turning away, he realized it was not a one but a five dollar bill. He turned back to me with a look of amazement on his face and I was startled when he reached out and grabbed my hand!

Squeezing my hand and looking straight into my eyes, he said, “thank you so very much sir! God Bless You, Sir!” I said “you are welcome, thank you” and as he walked away, the traffic cleared so I could get on my way. I marveled that there was no smell of tobacco on his hands nor alcohol on his breath and though his skin was deeply tanned from living in the sun, his hands were as soft and supple as a baby’s skin.

The one good thing about having to drive halfway downtown to the utility company to pay my bill on the very last day was one of my favorite hamburger places just up the street. In addition to the great burgers they have the best French fries in the whole world! So after paying the electric bill and feeling even more broke and depressed, I drove through to get my burger and those heavenly fries.

Sitting in my truck and trying to savor those fries though, my mind kept going back to the homeless man. He never knew where his next meal would come from and yet here I was feeling sorry for my self while stuffing my face on my way back to my home, my wife and kids who love me, the pile of presents under the tree and the driveway full of cars.

I had to go back. Turning around, I asked, please God, let him still be there… When I pulled in the parking lot, there he was, climbing into the dumpster. Parking, I got out and approached him. He drew back with a look of apology on his face. Clearly not remembering me, he said, “I can leave sir, it you don’t want me to be here, I don’t want to cause any trouble” I said, “I have no problem, but may I ask what you are looking for in the dumpster?” He replied, “Just something to eat.” I said, “You may not remember me, but I was here about an hour ago in that blue truck and I gave you the $5.00, could you get something with that?” He looked at my truck then back to me and it all clicked. His face brightened, “Oh, yes, sir, thank you very much sir, but I saved the $5.00. If I can find something to eat in here instead” motioning at the dumpster, “then I can save it in case I really need it sometime.”

Feeling even more guilty for my self pity, I asked if I could take him in the supermarket and get him some food. We put his stuffed duffel with all his belongings in it in the back of my truck (only after reassurances it would be safe) and locked it up. He picked sardines, canned meats, canned tomatoes and other things in small containers so there would be no leftovers after a meal. I had to keep asking if I could get him more. Suddenly, he stopped in the aisle and exclaimed, “My bag, where is my bag?” Reassuring him it was safely locked in my truck outside and we would go get it in a couple of minutes he calmed back down after asking twice more if I was sure it was safe. I then realized one of the reasons this gentle soul was living on the street.

I kept trying to get him to take more food, but he protested saying, “I can’t carry any more and besides, if I have too much, people just steal if from my bag when I am asleep in some places.” It was not stated as a complaint, just a simple fact. The bill came to a whopping $17.32.

As we sat on the curb beside the dumpster while he packed the food into his duffel he told me his name was John and he had been living in Phoenix. When I asked if he had any family he said yes, he was on his way back to his family in Virginia. As we talked, I gave him a twenty dollar bill. He would not take any more saying “people would just steal it” if he had too much. Suddenly he looked directly in my eyes and said, Mike, are you an angel? I was stunned for a moment at the question but I said, no, John, I am just a man like you. Then he asked, “Then why are you doing this for me?”

This question too, caught me by surprise, but I never even thought about the answer, it just popped out of my mouth: “because I love you, John: and because Jesus loves us both.” His eyes looked straight into my soul as he said, “I love you too, Mike.” I asked if he would pray with me and he said, “I’d like that very much.” I prayed for his safety and success on his journey and his daily needs. And thanked God for bringing us together. After joining me in the ‘Amen” he leaned over with tears streaming down his face and wrapped his arms around me in a hug as we rocked gently back and forth.

I asked if there was anything else I could do for him and he patted his duffel and said, “No, I have my Bible I read every day right in here and all I can carry and you have given me too much already.” I am going to stay around here for a while and then keep heading home to Virginia. I drove away after him saying “God bless you, Mike” more times than I can remember. And you know of course, God did bless me enormously that day and continues to do so.

So I ask you, who received the real gift that day?

Given he could not remember where his bag was for 15 minutes, I have often wondered if John would ever remember me after that day. After all, once the food and the money were gone, he would be back where he was before we met.

Yet that was years ago and I, on the other hand, received a lesson and a gift from God that I will remember the rest of my life. When Jesus said “it is more blessed to give than to receive”, I now understood what He really meant!

Truly, the best thing we can to for ourselves is to find someone in need and give sincerely to them, seeking nothing back. Because we gain a far greater benefit and blessing than any we might give to someone else.

The interesting thing is that this experience has not been unique. I have had other encounters with homeless and “street people”. In every single case, the stereotype of a drunk bum is not accurate. All I have encountered have simply been people with no place to live and no steady job.

I would love to hear comments from you if you have had experiences with homeless folks and what your thoughts are about them.