Yesterday evening, I decided to make myself a nice steak dinner and strolled to a nearby supermarket. As I went in, a man asked me to buy one of those magazines sold by the homeless. Truthfully but airily, I told him I’d already bought one and went in to the supermarket, intending to give him a few dollars as I left. I paid for the groceries with my debit card and then looked for something to give to the man waiting outside in the wet and cold. To my dismay, I discovered that I only had a single dollar in my wallet.
I went outside and gave him the dollar, adding all the coins in my pocket. I walked back home and entered the warm hallway. I stopped, realizing how blessed my life is. I put down the shopping bags and left again, heading for the nearest ATM. I made my way back to the magazine seller and gave him what — considering my monthly allowance — was a significant amount of money. Would he immediately spend it on drugs/alcohol or would he use it for a good meal and a warm room for the night? I’ll never know.
This Thanksgiving Day, I’m counting my blessings and reminding myself that the man I met last night and every cold and hungry person is my brother and sister. So far, I have been far more fortunate than him and them.