May 3, 2008

• The man on the Street Corner

  In the Bethesda/Rockville area where I used to live there was this street corner and on it stood a man stoically standing there holding a sign watching the cars go by. He brought a backpack every day. He wore the same clothes every day. He held the same sign every day.

  And he was there in the deep of winter when the cold wind was biting enough to kill. He was there in the snow and sleet and when the ground was slick with ice. He was there when the rains came poring down with thunder and lightning. He was there, still, stoically standing as the cars roared by splashing up pools of water soaking him and his poor sign.

  Always he was there. Rain or snow. Sleet or hail. Standing there walking back and forth sometimes looking at each driver in the eye saying nothing but silently asking them to find it in their hearts to help him.

  And yet, I never once saw anyone give him a dime. Not once. And this is not a poor area. The people here are quite well to do compared to most of the places I have lived in my life. Not super wealthy but well off enough. I would not have been able to afford to live there were it not for the benevolence of a good friend of mine. But still, despite their good fortunes, nobody rolled down their windows. Nobody reached into their wallets. Nobody even waves a friendly hello. They all didn’t see him. They just drove by.

  I was the same too. Most of the time. A few times I reached in and pulled out all the spare change I had and handed it to him. But I don’t carry cash, usually since I tend to pay for things by credit card and I’d never remember to withdraw some cash for the purpose of helping out this poor stranger.

  I would also wonder sometimes, even as I handed over that little change I could scrounge up, “am I being a chump?” Maybe nobody else is helping because they all see something that I don’t? Maybe they know this poor man is a fraud? Maybe they know he isn’t really homeless? Maybe they know he’s secretly making a killing out there? Maybe they know he’s secretly rich and is only doing it to make fun of people or as a means of amusement? Maybe they know he’s a drug addict or a drunkard and will only waste my money on something that doesn’t better himself? 

  So I never did give him a reasonable amount of money. But I felt bad about it. I’d say to myself: “One of these days I’m going to give him more”.

  And before long it became time for me to move on to a new life. In the days leading up to my move, I couldn’t stop thinking about the man on the corner.

  And so I drove by there on my way to other places, this time with real money in pocket expecting to help. To do something good for once.

  Only one problem. He wasn’t there anymore. I don’t know why. He was just gone. He disappeared. I went and checked several times in the days leading up to my departure. I even drove by other street corners that hosted homeless people on occasion to see if he had relocated. I even sat in the parking lot near his preferred corner reading my book for several hours waiting to see if he’d show up. He didn’t. He was just gone. 

  Who knows what happened to him? Maybe he found a better location.  Maybe he got a job. Maybe he made enough money to get something better for himself. Maybe someone helped him.

  Or maybe he died.

  I hope not. But I’ll never know.

  There were other homeless people.  I ended up finding three of them and giving them each $50. Some would say this is reckless since I’m not exactly rich by any stretch of imagination. Nor am I related to or connected to wealthy individuals. And $150 is no small amount with moving expenses breathing down my neck and a lot of loans to pay off and medical expenses looming on the corner.

  But I couldn’t help but imagine what if some day it’s me out there standing on the corner begging for help? One day it could be me. One day it probably will be me in need of help. And no I don’t expect it, but I hope that someone else out there will help. That someone will at least try.

  And $50? It’s not a whole lot. Not really. A new pair of shoes or a new jacket or a few meals. That’s it. Nothing to change someone’s life around. Not enough to solve any serious problems.

  Still, I hope it helps them. They responded with their god blessings and their heartfelt thanks that I felt wholly undeserving of. I didn’t do anything good. Not really. This is just something that makes me feel better.  It doesn’t solve any problem. It doesn’t save anybody.

  It helps me live with myself.

  That’s why I did it. That’s why I do everything.

  • 7:48 am
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