Are You An Angel?
I saw a homeless man on Elmwood Avenue in Buffalo.
I had just pulled my car to the side of the road and I was digging through an ashtray filled with coins as I watched the dirty, old man push his shopping cart from one garbage can to another.
The man appeared to be about ten years older than me.
I sipped my $4 coffee and watched as he struggled with discarded pizza boxes, plastic grocery bags and God knows what else. He came out of the trash can with a Pepsi can that had been squeezed a little too tightly.
He spent a couple of minutes with the can between his gloved-covered hands in an effort to get the can back to some sort of cylindrical state so that he could turn it in for a nickel.
We have a garage filled with garbage bags that hold cans that my kids are too lazy to take to the store.
I grabbed a couple of the quarters to feed the meter and then I considered my wallet.
I extracted a ten-dollar bill.
The man was about fifty feet away as I slipped the quarters into the meter and locked my car with the remote button.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
He wasn't going to ask me for even a nickel.
He didn't have to.
I had him covered.
When I got close to him it occurred to me that he was actually closer to my own age.
He also looked like he was of Italian descent.
"Good morning," I said.
"Morning," he answered, but his eyes darted to the sidewalk and then to the next garbage can.
"Here," I said.
I extended the folded ten toward him.
"No, no, no," he said.
"Take it, 'Have a good day'," I said.
He accepted the bill.
He finally looked down and his eyes widened when he saw that it wasn't just a single.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"Just wanted to say, 'Have a Good Day'," I said.
"Are you an angel?" He asked.
"Now I can eat," he added.
He actually said:
'Now I can eat'!!!!
"Thank you," he softly said, but I was already moving away from him. I was doing it quickly, however, and not because he scared me or because I didn't want to be near him...
...but because I could tell that he felt a little bit ashamed.
I could see the shame in his eyes. I heard it in his voice when he asked me if I was an angel.
For a minute I felt so badly for him and I actually wanted to know why he was where he was, but instead I walked away.
"Thank you," he called again.
I will never know that man's story, but I'm ashamed that we live in a country where so many men like him are simply discarded.
I know, I know...
...He should become the C.E.O. of something through hard work...
...but it doesn't work that way for everyone.
God Bless Him.
And the millions like him.
I had just pulled my car to the side of the road and I was digging through an ashtray filled with coins as I watched the dirty, old man push his shopping cart from one garbage can to another.
The man appeared to be about ten years older than me.
I sipped my $4 coffee and watched as he struggled with discarded pizza boxes, plastic grocery bags and God knows what else. He came out of the trash can with a Pepsi can that had been squeezed a little too tightly.
He spent a couple of minutes with the can between his gloved-covered hands in an effort to get the can back to some sort of cylindrical state so that he could turn it in for a nickel.
We have a garage filled with garbage bags that hold cans that my kids are too lazy to take to the store.
I grabbed a couple of the quarters to feed the meter and then I considered my wallet.
I extracted a ten-dollar bill.
The man was about fifty feet away as I slipped the quarters into the meter and locked my car with the remote button.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
He wasn't going to ask me for even a nickel.
He didn't have to.
I had him covered.
When I got close to him it occurred to me that he was actually closer to my own age.
He also looked like he was of Italian descent.
"Good morning," I said.
"Morning," he answered, but his eyes darted to the sidewalk and then to the next garbage can.
"Here," I said.
I extended the folded ten toward him.
"No, no, no," he said.
"Take it, 'Have a good day'," I said.
He accepted the bill.
He finally looked down and his eyes widened when he saw that it wasn't just a single.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"Just wanted to say, 'Have a Good Day'," I said.
"Are you an angel?" He asked.
"Now I can eat," he added.
He actually said:
'Now I can eat'!!!!
"Thank you," he softly said, but I was already moving away from him. I was doing it quickly, however, and not because he scared me or because I didn't want to be near him...
...but because I could tell that he felt a little bit ashamed.
I could see the shame in his eyes. I heard it in his voice when he asked me if I was an angel.
For a minute I felt so badly for him and I actually wanted to know why he was where he was, but instead I walked away.
"Thank you," he called again.
I will never know that man's story, but I'm ashamed that we live in a country where so many men like him are simply discarded.
I know, I know...
...He should become the C.E.O. of something through hard work...
...but it doesn't work that way for everyone.
God Bless Him.
And the millions like him.
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