(I’m listening to “All I Want” by Toad the Wet Sprocket)

Dropping the kids off is usually an uneventful task, but last Tuesday, it wasn’t.

The day started off as normal.  The wife and I woke up the kids, got them dressed, put some food in them, made sure they had everything they needed for the day, packed it and them in the car, and were ready to go.  It was just like any other day.  About half way through the drive is where things took a turn.

As I was driving the kids to swim lessons, I pulled up to a red light.  I was in the right hand lane and there were two lanes headed each direction.  In the left hand lane, there was a beautiful, white, Tesla with tinted windows and chrome rims.  There was a man in the driver’s seat.  He was wearing dark sunglasses, his hair was perfectly combed, and he was in a suit.  He looked like he was seriously thinking about something.  Maybe it was a stock trade was going to make when he got to his office, or maybe a client meeting. Whatever it was, he looked confident and determined, like his whole day was planned out, and he knew exactly how it was going to play out.  As I was admiring this car, I looked to my right and standing on the street corner was a homeless woman.  She was holding a sign, that read, “Anything helps.  Thank you.”  She was wearing a ratty, grey, t-shirt, and dirty, green capri pants.  She looked like she had been standing there a while.  Her eyes sagged.  She might have been tired, but there was something more behind it.  Her eyes hanged.  She wiped her forehead with her thumb and her index and middle fingers, almost like she was trying to erase the events of the day before they happened.  The look on her face wasn’t just tired, it was despair.  Unlike the man in the Tesla, the look on her face was the opposite.  She had no idea what was going to become of her day and there was absolutely zero confidence and determination in her gaze.

I looked back at the man and back at the woman.  In the background, Macklemore’s song, “Glorious” was playing.  The lyrics, “So when I leave here on this earth, did I take more than I gave?” came out of the speakers and filled my ears.  I looked back at the man, then back at the woman.  I thought, “How can there be such a gap between these two people?”  Then, I looked at myself in my rear view mirror and looked at Littles sitting in her car seat.  She had a patient look on her face while waiting for the light to change.  She had no idea what was going on in my head or even the world around her.  She had no idea I was thinking about how some people can have so much and some could have so little.

I felt convicted.  I rolled down my window and said hello to the woman.  As she walked over to me, I grabbed my wallet, took out a bill, and gave it to her.  She didn’t even look to see what bill it was.  She just said, “Thank you and God bless you.”  I said, “You’re welcome, and God bless you too.”  Tears began to roll out of those hanging eyes, and she said, “You have no idea how much this helps.”  I didn’t.  I couldn’t.  We have more than we need.  I couldn’t possibly understand why this woman was thinking.  The light turned.  We began to move forward and the woman returned to her position on the corner.

I looked into the mirror again.  Littles asked me if I knew that woman.  I said no.  She said, “You talked to a stranger?”  I replied, “Yes.”  She asked, “Why?”  I said, “Because that woman is having a hard time, so I gave her some money.”  We talked about how some people don’t have much and need help.  We talked about how it’s okay for daddy to talk to strangers, but that she shouldn’t unless she’s with daddy or mommy.  We also talked about how we have so much and how fortunate we are.  I didn’t know if Littles understood, but I think I got a glimpse later that night.

As we were putting Littles to bed, she said she had to do something.  This can mean many things.  Usually it means she has to go potty, or find a special toy to sleep with, but this time I could tell it was something different.  I heard the little pitter-patter of her feet as she ran into the living room, then into our room.  There was a little pause, and then she came back to her room.  She said she had a surprise for us and that we should come see.  This is what we found.

Littles had placed one of her animals next to both mine and my wife’s pillow.  These are some of her prized possessions, the things she calls “pecial,” meaning, “special.”  She said we could sleep with them and they would keep us company as we slept so we wouldn’t be lonely.  The wife and I thanked her, and looked at each other and smiled.  The wife put a hand to her heart as if to say it was going to burst.  After we put Littles to bed, I said to the wife, “Wow! I’m surprised Little’s gave up her bunny and her pony.  She loves those things!”  The wife said, “That’s how she shows she loves us.  That’s all she has to give.”  I immediately thought of the homeless woman and the conversation we had earlier that day.  I don’t know if they’re related, but I’d like to think they are.

Littles has such a great heart and I can’t wait to see what she does in this world.  I’ll bet she gives more than she takes.