I noticed the guy at the checkout a few people ahead of me, counting his change as I got in line. Dirty with matted hair, he took out one coin at a time from his wallet, then placed it in the clerks hand. About six of us stood in line shifting from one hip to the other as he counted his pennies.
As I watched him, my mind raced back to ten years previous, when I stood at the check-out, overestimating my food stamps and cash for the groceries I had placed on the conveyor belt. My face grew hot as the audience behind me in line watched me take out the items I couldn’t afford. I knew well the heat of humiliation and anxiety struggling to make ends meet with three young boys in tow.
Reflecting on my past, my heart went out to the man as he took the fry pan, his one and only item, and walked out the door. Then as I waited my turn in line, an idea came to me: My mission, should I choose to accept it, was to give this man some money with a message from the Lord. So, at check out when the card reader asked, cash back? I chose YES ! , took the money, and headed out the door with a full cart.
I was afraid the man would get away if I didn’t hurry. I rushed and unloaded my groceries into the car at breakneck speed as I prayed that he was still in the area. Then I searched, and there he was at the far end of the parking lot. I was both relieved and elated. My mission was a GO.
Adrenaline raced through my veins as I proudly marched with determined stride across the parking lot. The man looked down, digging around in his pack as I got closer, and didn’t see me coming until I stood two feet in front of him and held out some money.
“Here, take this. God loves you!” I abruptly proclaimed.
He seemed startled when I handed him the money. Then, without another word or a smile, I turned and started back across the parking lot like I had just accomplished an important task assigned by my heavenly commander.
“Okaaay?” The man called out after me with a tone of confusion, as if questioning my sanity.
When I made it back and got into my car, I felt incredibly awkward. I had just assaulted the poor man with my good intentions and total lack of social skills.
I reflected on the incident as I drove away, realizing where I had failed. Maybe a simple smile would have been appropriate. And instead of a sharp voice, maybe I could have softened my tone and added a few kind words.
It dawned on me charity is far more than just giving away money; it’s an investment in the hearts and minds of people wherever they are with simple, gentle kindness.
Next time, and I’m sure there will be many, I’ll attempt a different approach and try not to make whoever God puts in my path an unwary victim of an awkward dogooder.