Have you ever felt you’ve been touched by God in His physical presence on earth? I looked into the eyes of a homeless man and truly, I felt as though it was like meeting Jesus on earth. It was as though time stood still in the frame of my vision, yet all around me, life’s movement continued.
It was late in the afternoon on a breezy SF day. As I waited and turned, looking for a glimpse of Gail’s car coming east on O’Farrell, there were people bustling about their business. No sign of the Prius. I spun west, and as I turned back to the east, a black man stopped in front of me; he was frozen at my eye level holding out two copies of the local street newspaper. You know, the one that sells for a dollar that homeless people buy and sell to have enough money to get through their day. I thought quickly and was ready to say no and then I felt something extraordinary. Call it a flash of intuition. I said to the man, “maybe I have enough change – can you give me a minute to take a look?” He then saw I was struggling with a purse too full or too large. He responded, “Here sweetheart, you can just have a copy.” I replied, “No… – I want to find my change. I want to pay for it!” Indeed, I found my change purse – gave him a dollar and then looked into it and thought, why not give it all? He said thank you very kindly. He then said, “Where are you from?” I told him Canada. It just seemed easier to say. And then as I was dumping out the rest of my change I looked up into his eyes. He was well dressed – very clean and neat and was pulling a spotless green rolling suitcase behind him. By the time of day, I sensed he was on his way to get a meal. He said to me, “Ma’am, did you know you are a gift to my day? I feel like you are a special child of Jesus. I hope you see that in yourself.” His words paralyzed me for a moment – and then my eyes glazed over. I replied, “Please don’t call me ma’am. I am just me.” To that he responded, “May I give you a hug?”
I told him I would be honored if he gave me a hug. As we embraced, I noticed he was absent of the aroma of alcohol and tobacco. He was clean and aside from a loss of employment or perhaps a mental illness, he was clear in thought and body.
As I released from his grasp, I looked into his eyes and said, “We are no different you and I. We are just at different places in our lives. You are very kind and I wish I could do more but I haven’t any more money.” (Which I didn’t in fact – it was not a lie.)
He said, “God bless you – you are very special. You are.” And I said, “As are you. Have a good day,” and bid him goodbye. He slowly turned and walked down the sidewalk.
It took about 5 minutes for that exchange to sink in. And then I felt so much sadness. Pain for his loneliness and my connection to the feelings of being abandoned and living on the street. Sorrow for never appreciating my own gifts; knowing they are there but never celebrating them. Believing that I had just been touched by the Holy Spirit; for a moment I felt the presence of Jesus. There was no fear, no shame. Just love and mutual respect. If I could have bottled that feeling of humanity, I would carry it forever.
It was the gift of my trip to San Francisco. A blessing.
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