Matthew 25:35-40: "For I was hungry and you gave Me food: I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to me. … Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and gave You drink?… When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothed You?…Or when did we see You sick or in prison, and come to You?'…Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to me."
While they sat in the park and this homeless man was eating his breakfast, he decided to share a small part of his story with my daughter.
One morning when my daughter was walking to the store she saw a homeless man sitting in the park. She has seen him many times in her travels; yet on this particular day she was moved to buy him breakfast.
This is a man who had gone to one of the best colleges in the State of California. He had it all: money, prestige, a good job. Then something happened and he lost it all. Now he lives on the streets, looked down upon by society.
I wonder what must go through his mind as he sits on that park bench watching people walk by him, or even avoid him, as they head to their jobs, or head home to a loved one, a hot meal and a warm bed? Does he sit there remembering when?
Homeless
What do you see when you look at me?
Do you see a person who is lazy?
Or maybe someone who simply does not care?
Why do you walk by me with disgust in your eyes?
Sometimes you avoid me all together,
acting like I'm contagious with some dreadful disease.
You see, I once had it all. I lived high on the hog.
People use to looked up to me, everyone knew my
name, because I was somebody.
I once wore the finest clothes,
drove the best cars,
dined in three star restaurants, sipping the best wines.
I was called sir and looked upon with respect.
I once had people who cared about me.
I had plenty of food to stock my shelves.
My bed was soft and cozy.
I could take a hot shower when
ever the mood struck me.
You see I once had it all. I lived
high-on-the-hog; yet something
happened and I lost it all.
So here I sit on this old park bench:
no more job,
no more cars,
no more warm bed,
no more home with plenty to eat,
no more hot showers,
no more people who love me,
no more hope.
I am now just a nobody:
the man who lives on the streets--
the one you all avoid.
Our Lord didn't sit with those who had it all. He sat with those who were nobodies, rejected by those who had it all.
When I was growing up we had a "Bag Lady" who lived in our town. I watched her for many summers. We kids were told--in front of her at times--to stay away from her. She might have some kind of disease we could catch. She was looked upon as the very trash she mulled through.
I remember the kids would ride by her on their bikes; some even spit on her, while others yelled out means things, told to them by their parents. She would hold her head down and keep walking. My heart broke for her; yet I was a child who had no say about anything.
One summer evening I decided I was going to talk with her. It was getting late and the town siren had gone off, letting us know it was close to nine p.m. curfew. I saw the " Bag Lady, " as she was called, digging through the trash can in one of the parks, I ran up to her and asked what she was looking for. She told me that every Friday & Saturday after the high school kids were done drinking beer and partying, they would buy pizzas and other foods, then throw away their leftovers and the beer and soda cans. (The cans were worth, I believe, either three or five cents.) These scraps for wasteful youth gave her weekend meals.
On that particular evening this "Bag Lady" found two-half eaten Big Macs, part of a grinder (sub sandwich), a few French fries with two un-open packages of condiments, and one slice of pizza, still in the box, plus a few beer and soda cans.
Excitement filled her eyes as her hands hurried to carefully wrap up the food in some old clothes she had and place it in a special basket she had in her shopping cart. One would have thought she had found a steak dinner with all the trimmings.
I will never forget that deep penetrating look she gave me when I asked why she ate out of trashcans? Her response remains etched in my mind all these years.
There was bitterness in her voice as she replied: "Because no one cares about me. No one cares if I eat or not. I don't like eating out of trashcans. It's all I have!" Then she told me I better go and not let anyone see me talking to her, because she knew the adults didn't want their kids around her.
It was a couple of summers later I brought that same "Bag Lady" home to live with me. Needless to say, my parents didn't approve. She was given some water and sent on her way.
My Dad use to tell me often when I was growing up how I was always for the "Under Dog": those rejected by others.
Do we as God's People have a heart for the "Under Dogs," those who have been rejected simply because they didn't live up to the worlds standards, or some how fell through the cracks of our society? Or maybe they don't live up to our standards?
What we do here on earth in this short span of time we have been allotted will be stored in heaven for all Eternity!!!
© Jo-Ann Marie Falace
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