I was on the way to the Optometrist yesterday afternoon and he was sitting on the side of the road, in the shade of an overpass with two dogs; one white and big and powerful, clearly the brawn of the organization and the other black, with smart, sparkling eyes; both sleek and well fed and watered. The boy was young, probably not 30. I don’t usually give to panhandlers that look like they’re as able to work as I am. I know, I shouldn’t judge one more deserving than the other, but I prefer to share what I can with the schizophrenic lady and the one legged man.
His sign said “Anything Helps”. Anything? No, not anything. Any Amount. And, I reached into my pocket and pulled out what I had and passed it through the window. Not much; couple of bucks. Enough for a couple of tacos for supper. When he opened his mouth to thank me, I realized he had maybe a half dozen teeth. It likely should have made me sad, but it made me smile. And, it broke my mood of the day. I always wish a good day and share with a big smile and usually an admonishment to stay cool or warm, depending on the season. Yesterday was no different.
And, as I drove away, I felt good. Real good. As though the whole point of my day was to share with this young man and his dogs. And, that kind of made the allergies and the heat and the news and the politics and the quilt show just a background noise, like static on the radio.
My real purpose was to buy a guy supper. And, help make sure Sydney grows into a productive member of society. And, hold dinner for Rob when he was late from work, just to show him how important I think he is. And, help my friend at work figure out how to piece the quiltblock she’s working on, and seeing that look of relief in her eyes when she understood why her triangles wouldn’t line up.
My Mom would call this counting my blessings. So, let’s call it that. Blessed by the things I can do, more than the things I can’t do anything about.
Have a great Friday.