I can't think of the last time that I was compelled to give my hard earned money to anyone who I felt wasn't doing their part to earn their own. On Saturday, something felt different. I had just picked up lunch for a friend and their new baby. I was sitting at a red light, in my new-ish car, with my clean clothes and my son, sleeping in the seat behind me. I saw a man standing in the median with a sign claiming that he needed work and money. His clothes were filthy and if he wasn't homeless, he was a damn good actor. I watched him for a minute and saw someone else offer some cash. He limped over to the car with a limp that looked genuine and very painful. The only thought that I had in my head was, "he is someone's son."
When that thought flashed across my brain, I realized that the changes brought on by becoming a mother have been more drastic than I originally thought. Prior to B's arrival, my thoughts would have been, "I'm not giving drug money" or "He's probably going to drink the cash away" or "I bet his BMW is parked around the corner and he's one hell of an actor."
Six months ago, I would have driven right by him, without a second thought. Instead, I reached into my wallet, found $2, rolled down my window and handed it to a stranger. I didn't care what he was going to use it for, I just cared that someone's son was standing there, with a sign and he needed help. I knew that if that was my son, that I'd want someone to roll down their window, give him money and make him feel better.
As I drove away, I said a little prayer that he'd find what he was looking for and that he'd get enough that day to make things a little easier for him. I also said a prayer that my son would never have to know what hardship like that felt like.
No comments:
Post a Comment