Occasionally when out in the car we will pull up to a set of lights that are places of employment for those who ask for money. Their signs usually tell you what they need, and those needs are the really fundamental ones: a hot meal; a place to stay; warm clothing; take care of my family. Joe and I always, if we have money on us donate. It’s hard work doing what they are doing and because of that, we imagine the need is equal to the effort.
Recently we pulled up to a light and a fellow held a sign up: Disabled Trying To Survive Ford. I pointed to the sign and though it was probably supposed to elicit a laugh, it’s really not funny. I pulled out something to give him and Joe catches his eye and he heads towards us. He walks using arm brace crutches and he rushes to us nearly tripping a couple of times. He’s only got the space of one light to make it.
He gets to us and took the bill from Joe’s hand and then sees my wheelchair in the backseat of the car. “That your’s he said to Joe,” on hearing that it wasn’t “That your’s?” he asked me. I said that it was. He held up the bill and said “Any part of this from you?” I said that it had come from my wallet.
“It’s not charity then, it’s a gift from family!” he said, kissed the bill and then called God’s blessing down on us as we drove away.