We Never Really Know!

Getting groceries had now become a necessity, having delayed the onerous task for too long. Now I faced the threat of rain, but I determined that I could make it to Food Basics and home again before the skies opened up. So, with my grocery bags and list  in hand, and my ever faithful umbrella under my arm (No, I’m not a pessimist; I just like to be prepared!), I set out to do the unavoidable task that I’ve been doing for several decades.

I ignored the gentle sprinkles of rain dotting my car window on route to the store (after all, it was gentle!), and I spent the next half hour getting what I needed, paying my bill, and bagging my groceries. I was happy to be heading home. Did I say, “happy to be heading home”? I was, until I exited the store and became ever so grateful for my faithful umbrella that I had wisely taken into the store with me.

The phrase “raining cats and dogs” [a 17th century expression that has no known origin] comes to mind, and it would adequately describe what I faced on leaving the store. More than thankful for my umbrella, I navigated my grocery-laden shopping cart across the paved parking lot and came face to face with a woman, perhaps in her mid or late 20s, sitting on the curb of the walkway that divided the parking spots. Our eyes met, I offered a sympathetic smile and continued on my way, anxious to get out of the downpour, and I ignored the gnawing feeling of guilt for not stopping. But that guilty feeling never let up. I hurriedly stacked my groceries into the trunk, hunted through my purse for a five dollar bill, and returned to the woman.

What could have been an autumn shower had become a turbulent deluge and there she sat in the middle of it. She had no umbrella for protection only a thin jacket with a hood that covered her long hair. She held a bottle of water between her knees and seemed to guard a small bag of groceries someone must have left for her. And she held a sign: Please, I need food!

I sheltered her as best I could with my umbrella which proved to be very inadequate for two adults, gave her the money, and asked, “Do you have somewhere to go to get out of this storm?” Her reply echoed in my head for days: “I’m okay. I live in a tent behind the government building. Thanks for the money, though.” I offered to take her where she was living but she said she could manage. Then she simply stood up, picked up her bag of food, her water bottle and walked away, and I walked back to my dry, warm car. I sat for several moments questioning my decision to leave her be; then, feeling further pressed by the need to help her, I scanned the parking lot, but she had disappeared.

I shared this experience with some lady friends recently and a few quietly shook their heads, (I’m hoping they felt the same sense of sadness I had felt) and only one woman made the comment: “She probably hid out of your sight waiting for someone else to give her money.” I made no response, just silently questioned the woman’s Christian values.

I am not naïve to the life styles and choices of many on the streets of our town. Nor am I ignorant of the need for food banks. And I am certainly aware of what the government now calls “homeless encampments” that have peppered our community. But when I am confronted by such individuals or situations, do I—do we—have the right to judge?  The right to challenge an individual on a lack of effort to get a job, assuming laziness is the obvious problem? Do we shake our heads disapprovingly, bordering on disgust? Or do we simply ignore them?  May I suggest that when the opportunity arises, perhaps we should express compassion, offer aid when we can, and be thankful that we are in a position to be able to offer help. We never really know the true story of the person that crosses our paths unexpectedly. Perhaps we would be wise to put into practice the antidote to judgmentalism, “There but for the grace of God go I.” It really is only five dollars and a bag of food.

“Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food.
If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,”
but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?”
James 2:15-16