Posted by
Doug on Tuesday, March 24, 2009 1:52:25 PM
It seems to happen every week. A personal challenge to my sense of the world. This past week I spent time in Luke 18 with the rich, young ruler. I wanted to try to get a sense of this difficult passage. In the middle of last week, my son and his college roommate went downtown to see the sights. Around Canal St. they met a man around 50 years of age - a homeless man. He was black, had a bit of a beard, and had cracked, rough fingers from frostbite. My son sat down with him and talked for nearly an hour. He was not crazy, but he spoke vaguely of a personal loss, perhaps a death of one close to him. This death was the catalyst of a spiral that led to a corner of Canal Street. He wanted to sketch a picture of Adam and his friend, sketching was the way he earned a few dollars to spend on his needs. The man apologized that he only had a pencil and a few sheets of paper, his bag of supplies had been stolen only recently. As the man sketched his friend my son went to CVS and purchased sketch pads, pencils, and colored pencils for the man, along with a few other things. The sketch was wonderful.
That night, as my son told the story of this encounter to me, we went through the house and collected a bundle of basic supplies, and placed them in a shoulder bag we had. The next day my son went back to the same corner and looked for the man he had met the day before. He looked for some time, but could not find him. I have not been able to get this man out of my mind for this past week. What can I do? Is there anything? I am not sure of the answer, but I know there are many faceless people who need a stop, a conversation, and perhaps a friend. One thing I do know, I need to be open to meeting the people I am tempted to merely pass by. So this summer if you see a man with cracked fingers sketching a picture of someone downtown, his name is Vernon.