There’s a man that occasionally stands on the corner near my office where I get off the bus asking for change as we exit. He stands with his back against the wall in a non-threatening way repeatedly asking for change to anyone who makes eye contact with him. I’ve given him a few dollars here and there, or offered him a donut when I’ve brought in a dozen for my team. Most mornings I’m in a rush and it feels like too much effort to stop and dig for my wallet in my backpack so I give a polite smile and keep shuffling along with the others. It’s a horrible excuse, but it’s the ugly truth.

Its 14 degrees in Minneapolis this morning so I was anxious to get from my heated bus to my cushy job where they serve free bagels on Fridays. I saw him standing there while I was waiting to exit and contemplated for a second giving him money since I actually had cash on me today, but my hands were full and it was cold outside so I quickly filed off along with the others briefly catching his eye before turning away to cross the street. As I reached the other side of the block, I realized I hadn’t heard a single person even mutter a hello or “sorry I don’t” to him – including myself. I know we live in a scary world but when did we become so afraid or downright inhumane that we start to ignore someone’s existence all together because it makes us uncomfortable?

I felt convicted as I stood in line at the nearest Starbucks getting my daily cup of coffee that has become so routine I don’t even think twice about the frivolous $15-20 I spend on it a week. Just before it was my turn to order, a conversation I had with Deklan last summer popped into my head. We had pulled up to a red light where a homeless couple with a dog was sitting on the side of the road holding a cardboard sign asking for money. They were right outside of Deklan’s window, so naturally he wanted to know why they were just sitting there and what their note said. I simply told him they needed money to buy food – which of course led to 50 more questions about why they don’t have food, or money, or jobs, what their dog’s name was, if the dog needed money for food too, and so on. I had answered to the best of my ability that a 4 year old could understand, while also trying to be careful of not making assumptions about the couple’s situation because I don’t want his innocent mind to be warped by stereotypes like mine admittedly has. I was watching his face in the rear view mirror trying to piece it all together and then he asked with a puzzled expression: “well why didn’t you stop to help them?” And there it was. The innocence of a child confronting you on your morals. I knew I couldn’t give him an honest or fair answer because it would expose what a hypocrite I was so I mumbled something about not being able to give everyone money because we also need money for food. And then I went on to add that sometimes they say they need money for food but then they don’t buy food with it. The stereotype that I said I didn’t want to inflict on him came tumbling right out of my mouth. “Why they would say they needed money for food if they didn’t buy food with it? What else did they buy with the money if they didn’t buy food?” he said. “Toys. Sometimes they buy toys with it instead of food.” I blurted out a little too quickly because drugs weren’t a topic I was ready to dive into with a 4 year old… “So, if you are homeless you can’t have toys?” he asked. At this point I knew I had gone too far down a rabbit hole and I was ready for the conversation to be over so I responded with a bit of a tone, “UGH. No, that’s not what I meant but toys are a luxury, not a necessity. Just forget I said that, it’s not really the point here.” He averted his gaze and said in a soft almost sheepish tone as he stared out the window: “well I always help everyone I see that needs it.”

I thought about Deklan’s words and that man standing on the corner in the cold watching the world rush past him as if he doesn’t even exist. I can do better, I told myself. I need to do better. We all need to do better. So I ordered him a hot breakfast sandwich and slipped some money in the bag along with it and then walked back to the bus stop to give it to him. He caught my eye as I was approaching and asked if I had any change. This time I smiled warmly and said “I thought you could use a hot sandwich on a cold day. I also put some money in there for you so you can get lunch later, too.” You could tell by the stunned look on his face that a small gesture like this doesn’t happen often enough. He reached out to shake my hand as he thanked me repeatedly. This time I made a point to ask his name before exchanging our final pleasantries and heading back to my warm office with a hot cup of coffee and a free breakfast waiting for me. On the mornings when I have nothing to offer Mike, I can at least greet him by his name so he knows he is seen.