An attempt to know the poor

This past thursday, after work I was walking on Wellington Street West in downtown Toronto. It was about 7:20pm and I was on my way to meet a friend at a four-star restaurant. As I was walking down the street a man modestly dressed approached me and stopped me on the street.  The sidewalks were clear and I stood there apprehensive about his intentions, positioning one foot back slightly to prepare a defensive stance for a lunge out of instinct (too much streetfighter2 training). He said the following:

“Excuse me, sir. I don’t mean to bother you, and I rarely do this but I could really use some help. You see, I’m out of work, am from out of town, and recently suffered an accident that has kept me out of work. I work in construction, but since I hurt my ankle I have not been able to work. I was kicked out of my apartment and now I’m sorry to say, homeless. I hate having to do this, I’m not a panhandler – all I’m trying to do is gather up some money so I can get something to eat. Any spare change you can give me would be really appreciated.”

In Toronto our homeless problem is pervasive. If you spend 10 minutes downtown walking the streets you will run into the homeless, guaranteed. Whether they are panhandling in front of Tim Hortons or sleeping on city grates, they are everywhere.  I recall maybe 3 years ago, I was approached on multiple occassions by the same homeless person on McCaul street walking to Vicky’s house. One time the man approached me twice within the same hour and didn’t even realize it. The man shared a similar sob story as the man that approached me last week. I was a big skeptic back then, and I still am. I wonder if these homeless beggars who share their stories are for real or are just looking for a cash grab. Three years ago I listened to the story, but looked for opportunity to cut the conversation off so I could walk away. I never gave money or ever truly gave my ears to the man. I wrote the man off as a waste of time.

Last Thursday, as the homeless man stood there in front of me, something came over me. I started examining the man, and I felt compelled to do something. The man was dressed modestly in a faded collared shirt under a black sweatshirt. He was wearing black jeans and worn-out construction boots. He was clean-cut and had stuble on his face. He had a slightly crooked smile and olive eyes. He was articulate and humbled in his tone.

I asked him where he worked and where he was living. I heard his voice tremble in self-loathe. “I’m out of work because of the accident, and my agency has not been very helpful so I’ll be looking to get a new one soon. Right now, honestly embarassed to say, in a number of homeless shelters… I know I can get work, I just need something to eat to get me through the next couple days.”

Usually I could just walk by a homeless man without regard and I would tell them “sorry, I have no spare change”.  This Thursday I was called to act. I told him I could help him and reached into my pocket. That day I had some change in my right pocket from my Tim Horton’s Coffee run of $2.55. In my left pocket I had my engraved moneyclip with a $10 bill and a dinner receipt from a previous night’s outting with friends. I reached into my left pocket and gave him the $10 bill.

I handed him the bill and he was taken-aback. Usually homeless I’ve seen are usually pan-handling for change not bills. He stammered in his words “Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.” I extended my hand, and he didn’t know how to respond. I held it out-stretched and said: “My name’s Phil.” He paused for a moment and then grabbed my hand with a timid handshake and instantly I felt the frozen touch of a man who’d spent too much time on the streets. I have poor circulation to my extremeties, and my hands are pretty chilly normally. From all my years in a corporate setting, I can count the number of hands I’ve shaken that actually felt cool to me. From shaking this homeless man’s hand, I could tell he had spent a significant amount of time outside. I could tell he was authentic in his need. He didn’t tell me his name. I told him “goodluck” and he said “thank you, thank you”.

I’m not sure what came over me that evening. I didn’t think about the Irresistible Revolution or the community we are looking to create. I just saw a man who looked honest enough and who’s story seemed to fit together. He didn’t seem like he wanted to swindle me. So I responded my best to get to know his story a little better and do what I could to extend help and a warm touch his way.

Whether the homeless man is an addict and is going to use that money for drugs or alcohol, I cannot be sure. It is an apparent reality for many of the homeless, and I can only pray that God knew what He was doing when he put that homeless man in front of me.

Shane Claiborne stressed the importance of getting to know the poor just as Jesus did. Jesus had no home and spent much of his time with the poor and needy, offering miracles to spread the love of God. Can’t we do the same?

Yes, I think, yes, we can.

2 comments