Stopped by Chuckie's spot again today. I saw his cart with his cans tied onto it. He was sitting half behind it. I'm not sure what he was doing when I walked up but I had to lean down kind of close to get his attention. I said, "Good morning, Chuckie." He looked up and realizing who I was, said, "Man, I told you, I'm getting out of here. I'm leaving." I said to him, "all I wanted to say was good morning." "Ok, fine, good morning." And I walked away.
It's hard sometimes to hold back and be satisfied that good morning is about all I can expect right now. I want to say more. I want to do more, but good morning is almost too much for Chuckie to take. I don't know why, but he makes it clear I'm not going to get any further right now. Patience and discernment--that's what I need right now.
Baby stumbles, Baby stumbles.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
This is going to sound a lot like when you lose your wallet and your wife asks if you "checked your pocket?" but have you considered bringing a cup of coffee or something?
You know, I have thought about it. But there's something to me that says that it's such a cliche that I shouldn't. If there's one thing I learned in Manhattan, it's that people love to hand out food to the homeless. I guess it feels like it would be trite for me to assume that he wants it, but I can't exactly break through to determine whether he'd prefer a cold water instead. Excuses? I don't know.
Haha! Maybe you're just thinking about it too hard. Drew, overanalyze? Nah!
Post a Comment