Opus 2015-219: On the Street: “My Mother Just Died...”

Or so he said.  You must admit, it is a good way to touch the heart strings as you begin to panhandle.  I listened courteously and when he got to the point where he had not eaten in three days, I knew I could help.  In my car I keep a supply of those little packages of cheese crackers with peanut butter filling.  I buy them for myself.  I eat them when I am hungry.  They have been my breakfast, lunch and dinner at times.  I reached in my open door, picked up a handful of packages - after all he was hungry - and handed them to him.  As the confused look developed on his face I reached in and pulled out a bottle of water, again from my personal supply, and started to hand it to him. 

I could not do much for his loss of his mother.  I am not Jesus, I can’t raise the dead.  I could do something about not eating in three days.  After all Jesus said,

(Matthew 25:41-42 KJV)  Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels:  For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:

I don’t want to burn in Hell because I didn’t give a hungry man something to eat. 

I guess in this case it wasn’t Jesus I was feeding.  He got a look of disgust, handed the packages back to me and said, “No thank, I was wanting some meat.”  Well, sooorrrry.  He had his eye on either the Del Taco across the street or the liquor store down the block.  What he was not looking for was food to take care of his hunger.

O, well.  I tried.  So did he.  He got nothing from the exchange.  I did.  I may have discovered a way to deal with panhandlers.

homo unius libri