LIVING TO GIVE
Yesterday, while shopping at a local market to grab some
dinner items, I ran into this man standing at a kiosk sampling some food. The Chef wanted me to try some Italian
Moscato wine with strawberries in which I had to turn down because I can’t
tolerate acidic fruit.
As I was speaking
to the Chef in regards to methods I have been trying to use to heal my stomach,
the gentleman next to me joined in the conversation. I was speaking of the bone marrow broth I often make.
He joyfully begin speaking
of his childhood memory of his mother making the broth every week. He implied how soothing it was, the aroma in
the house, and to the tummy. I was
excited to run across an individual who could relate to the goodness of this
savory broth. For so many others haven't a clue of what I am talking about or too afraid to try cooking it.
He smiled with great
delight thinking about growing up on a farm as he shared a little more of his
story. As we continued to talk, we moved on to the next kiosk
sample of Tilapia fish and sautéed vegetables, we commented on the flavor enhancing
sauce that was used. He then asked for more
of the sautéed goodness.
At one
point, he stopped with head bowed looking down at his shirt and said, “I’m so embarrassed I must look awful,
this shirt is so filthy”. I laughed and
said, “My husband works in construction I see this every day”. He smiled and said, “I have another shirt in
my car, I should have changed”. I said, “I
wouldn’t worry about it, people come in here shopping all the time covered in
debris from work, your good”. We departed with wishing each other a great
rest of the day.
As I headed out of the store after checking out, I noticed
that same gentleman sitting at an outside lawn table displayed for sale. It struck my heart at that very moment that
the man was homeless. He was just trying
to cool off from this grueling heat, and was sampling to get what little
morsels of food he could. My kids asked how I knew. I said, I just do. The memory of the comment about the dirty shirt came back to me. My heart
sank, as I remembered us talking previously in the store at the sample cart, and here I stood with a cart full of groceries, while his stomach was probably screaming for anything to fill it. I knew I had no cash on me, and nothing edible to hand him immediately.
Sure enough my children and I watched him start walking down the hot streets
of Houston with sign in hand asking for food, or anything that would help. We were stuck at traffic light watching
people passing by without acknowledging him, as he waived and said “God bless you”
anyway.
The kids and I decided that we needed to get to a fast-food
place for him. As I was driving in my
barely air-conditioned vehicle and complaining of the traffic and heat, I
almost decided to just keep driving straight home. We had already been overheated at the gym,
and a little aggravation at the long line and wait at check out. I even said out loud to the kids, “You know
by the time we get the food and make it back around the freeway stuck in
traffic he will probably be gone”.
Their
reply, “But Mom…we have to at least try….right?” Ugh, I knew they were right....I was just so tempted due to the heat. Yet, I knew this man and others were experiencing worse. I absolutely knew that in normal
circumstances I wouldn’t pain stakingly whip around the crowded freeway to run
back to sit in extreme temps.
However, God spoke to my heart, stopped me dead in my tracks at a drive-thru
which we waited another twenty minutes through an overly crowded order process…clothing
soaked sweating profusely. When I
finally got up to the window, almost became briefly impatient for lack of heat
tolerance, as it seemed they had to go grow the cow first to make the burgers I
ordered for the gentleman.
There were two ladies who questioned my sign on the vehicle
and asked for a card. I shared with them
briefly the ministry of Food For Soul Magazine and that the rush for food was to
get it to a homeless man that we now had to drive back another three miles and somehow
snag before traffic lights turned green.
It excited them to see someone bringing food to the
homeless. It became a testimony of an
act of kindness if nothing else. We
quickly got back on the freeway feeder and headed back missing a turn and
getting stuck once more in the onslaught of cars baking in the heat.
We searched for the man but couldn’t see
him. We finally drove under freeway and
across and there he was! Cars were
rushing passed us and almost into us as we pulled over quickly with hazards on
and honked at him. He ran to the vehicle
recognizing our faces from the store immediately. We handed him a water bottle and the food
explaining that I didn’t have any cash on me, he grabbed my hand kissing it and
thanking me over and over. He reached in
cab to hug me and told the kids… “You have a great mom”. My heart was overwhelmed with gratitude! You see, I had a very rough start that
morning. I was hurt by some words that
penetrated my soul. I almost didn’t even
leave my house allowing this thing to get to me.
If I had allowed myself to get stuck on the
emotion of pain, I would have never been able to bless this man with some
food. I would have never received the
blessing of his kind words. I would have
never been shopping in a store with the company of this pure gentleman and
having great conversation in which not once did it seem he was homeless or once did he ask me for anything.
When this gentle homeless man kissed my hand...I felt a kiss from God. It was more than just doing a good
thing, it became a personal thing. I
tear up now just thinking about it, because so often we miss opportunities to
be God’s hands and feet because we get stuck on ourselves, our personal stuff
that tends to distract us from our destiny. We think that we are the ones being a blessing to the receiver, but no my friend...it is the giver who receives the richest blessing of all...
There is no greater feeling of love, then to give. I can’t explain it. If I had to stop giving, I would literally
stop living.
-Brenda Graff
Founder
Food For Soul Magazine
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