This time of
year I find myself frantic even though I make a conscious effort to remain
mindful of what the Christmas season is all about. "And what is that?" you ask.
I'm inclined
to say the season is about what is in our hearts. Each one of us understands the meaning of
Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, in their own cultural way. I am Christian, so I understand the season as
remembering the birth of Jesus. I also
remember it is the season of solstice and the "coming of the
Light." So these two thoughts are
with me, as well as the time of Hanukkah and the miracle of the eight nights of
lamps burning.
It is during
this season I am often subject to moments that stirs the heart. Such is the one I had today.
I was
returning from a trip to the grocery store to buy bread and butter for a
Christmas lunch. When I drove out of the
parking lot on the corner was a small old man, scruffy beard, torn wool cap holding
a piece of cardboard out at arm's length with the words, PLEASE I NEED SOME HELP.
As I waited for the light to turn green, I
felt him looking at me and I avoided his stare.
I didn't have change and I was in the far left lane. So I drove around the corner and got a coffee
and bagel because I didn't yet have breakfast.
When I came back out to the street he was still there, so I turned into
the parking lot, rolled down the passenger window, and gave him one
dollar. He reached into the car to take
it, and he said to me, "Thank you, dear. Merry Christmas." And in that moment, my heart began to
break. Here's why . . .
On the seat
that he reached over was a bag with a toasted bagel and a cup of hot
coffee. In my pocket was the left over
change and a $5 bill. In my wallet was a
$20 bill. I gave him $1. As I drove away I repeated to myself the
words he spoke, and they caught hard in my chest. I could have easily given him
so much more. I didn't need the
food. I didn't need the $5 and probably
would have not suffered much if I gave him the $20.
I have so
much and he seemed to have so little and what I gave him was so little. If my kinder self spoke to my stingy self, I
might say, "Well… you took the time to give him something, even if it was
just a little." And I could think
of many excuses as to why not to give money to those who might use it toward an
addiction. It's all about judgment. Who has the right to have more than someone
else on this planet?
The lessons
we learn this time of year are not for those we give to, but for ourselves. Perhaps it's not in the quantity of our gift
but in the love that comes with the exchange.
And I found myself loving this man, even to the point of heartbreak.
