Encounters

As I went to visit my girlfriend on Saturday, I came across a couple of little beggar boys. I knew one of them quite well- I see him at least two or three times per week as I walk to work. Unfortunately, because it was a Saturday, I hadn't been expecting to see him and I didn't have any peanuts for him in my pocket like I normally would. So I said "Hi" and then "sorry, next time" and kept walking.

I hadn't taken more than a couple of steps before I started feeling bad. Why should my forgetfulness mean that he doesn't get anything? But I looked around and didn't see anything nearby that I could buy for him, and I was already running half an hour late... I walked a good two blocks as I tried to decide whether to turn back or not. As I walked a big group of beggar boys walked past- probably a dozen of them.

There must be a beggar boy for every block in this city; am I supposed to feed them all? I stood on a bridge over the freeway and contemplated the situation as the crowd of boys sauntered past. Finally I decided to go back and buy my little guy some peanuts. Or fruit. Or whatever I could find. I wandered all the way back to where he usually stands, buying a massive loaf of bread on the way, only to discover that he was nowhere to be found. I walked to my girlfriend's apartment, assuming that I would at least see some of the other beggar boys along the way, but surprisingly enough I didn't see any.

I have this habit of realising what I should have done when it is far too late, and then trying to do it anyway. As far as I can remember, I have never yet succeeded in doing what I should have done in the first place- all the more evidence that I need to be constantly in prayer and listening to God's leading.

The good news is, my girlfriend needed bread, though she didn't realize it until later that evening. It all more or less worked out.

But I have a better story. I think. Yesterday I was walking home from work, just beginning to climb up a flight of stairs, when a small hand slipped into mine. I looked down, startled, and saw a beggar boy looking up at me with a smile on his face. He obviously recognized me. I expected him to ask for money, but he didn't. He just held my hand as we climbed the stairs together.

The stairs were part of a walking bridge over the autoroute- the same bridge where I had stopped on Saturday. As we crossed the bridge, the boy alternated between looking up at me and smiling at the people who were walking past. He was obviously enjoying the attention. As we walked down the steps on the other side, he called out to one of his friends. His friend did a double-take when he saw us, then tried to act as if it was perfectly normal. At the bottom of the stairs the boys went one way and, after wishing them farewell, I went my own way.

I'm not sure why the boy wanted to hold my hand. Perhaps it was security. Perhaps it was the notoriety of being friends with an adult. Perhaps he just wanted companionship. Whatever it was, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and I thank God that we were each able to brighten one anothers'
day.