Back against the cold concrete we spotted his face peeking between brightly lit car lights crouched, change cup placed between his runners. It was a bad night for him body feeling sick, unable to keep food down, exhausted from his lack of sleep, and tired of being mistreated. We sat together as a haze of people brushed past, he called out " good evening" and " have a good night" to each passerby but it sounded thin among the hurry. Gently exasperated he exhaled slowly glancing at me with a shrug. He spoke of being looked at like garbage and how it made him feel hopeless, he told of trying to be a gentleman but was judged on his appearance... Being spit upon, looked at with disgust, the brunt of a joke, and an easy target for throwing punches. The depth of his despair, the hollowed look in his face, the slumped shoulders and there was nothing I could do or say to make his pain all better. I so badly wanted to. " I just want one night in a nice warm bed, and a hot shower all for myself." He muttered without a hint of complaining or blaming in the slightest, he was just sharing. I felt powerless, all the words I thought of speaking would seem shallow and meaningless. All the advice or possible help I could offer him would only be repetition. What was left? I asked if I could pray for him.To my surprise he hung his head immediately, welcomed my hand on his shoulder, his eagerness spilling the change without taking notice. Such a holy moment watching this man as we talked to Jesus, his expression relaxed, softening, nodding agreeing with the words as I spoke them. Oh, that smile was contagious, his sweet face so kind, his humility will forever be teaching me.
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