Today, I passed a man sitting on the pavement, looking up at me asking for money and I said ‘sorry’ and kept walking. I was just coming out of a store with grocery bags, it was hot and I literally had nothing to do at home. I didn’t get far before I turned back.

I knew I had cash in my wallet to give him but that wasn’t even the point. What bothered me was that he must have been around my age and beneath the filth, the sadness and the addiction beating through his face…there was a goodness, an innocence.

I couldn’t help but think about how I’ve struggled and suffered in my own life and how much ashamed I was about myself that I couldn’t even give this man a dime…

Shame on me…

So, I went back to him with money in hand and I approached him.  When he looked up at me he smiled without saying a word and his eyes went bright…I was able to see the brightness in him…and for a second we were together. Have a good day, Buddy.

That was all I could think of saying, but I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to give so much more. I wanted to take his problems with me and bury them somewhere, where he could never find them again, this way he could start fresh and have another shot at living life without remembering any of the sick memories he had growing up with. Without the beatings he took from his father, and times where he suffered to even get a meal per day. At the age of fifteen sitting outside the supermarket and not understanding why everyone was staring at him, feeling lonely without his much loved relatives and friends, he still tried to survive by begging and crying out for money.

I hope he finds his voice, rises above and finds true happiness cause he needs it please, ‘please give him a chance’