This month’s My Story SHARED by Good News Tucson reader, Denise Lee
Through The Eyes of A Child
"Mommy, you should've said something!"
As I looked at the teary, frustrated eyes of my son, guilt and regret tugged
heavily at my heart.
"You’re right, honey, I should have said ... something."
It all started with a routine trip to the library. We packed a snack and
went to go wait for the bus. As we were waiting, enjoying Fritos and bottled
water, I saw an old man approaching. He was carrying a sleeping bag in one
hand and a plastic bag in the other. I turned away as he got closer, hoping
he wouldn't stop to ask for money because I had none to give him.
He did stop at the bus stop, but only to pause to rest. He seemed hot and
tired as he wiped his brow. Little James continued to snack happily as I
sat there awkwardly not knowing what to do. An inner battle was being waged
between my heart and my flesh. My heart wanted to reach out to this old man.
Even though we had no money, I could have offered him a cool drink, a small
snack. But my flesh warned it might not be safe. Stereotypes, justifications,
and excuses all kept me quiet, as I sat anxiously waiting for the bus or
this man to move on (whichever provided escape first).
Finally he began to gather his meager belongings and resumed his journey, never having uttered a word. With mixed feelings of relief and regret, I watched as he slowly left. My observant son noticed my prolonged perusal and asked, "Mommy, what are you staring at?"
"Do you see that old man carrying the sleeping bag and plastic bag? He's homeless. That sleeping bag is his bed and that bag probably holds everything he owns. He's probably on his way to the park where he will probably sleep tonight."
I had only meant to help him visualize how much we had to be thankful for and how blessed we were, to help him realize that, "but for the grace of God, there go we." But it went much deeper than that for him, much deeper than I even realized, but was soon to find out.
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I knew something was terribly wrong when I saw him put down his chips (one of his favorite things) and hang his head. After a while I asked him, "James, what's wrong, honey?" I was shocked as he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, "Mommy, I don't like people being homeless!"
"I don't either, sweetheart."
"You should've said something!" he accused. At a loss, I asked, "What should I have said?"
"That he could come stay with us!" he replied obviously.
As I looked at the teary, frustrated eyes of my son, guilt and regret tugged heavily at my heart.
"You’re right, honey, I should have said... something."
How many five-year-olds would be so moved to Sympathy as to shed tears for an old homeless man? How many five-year-olds would be so moved to Compassion as to suggest offering their home to that same man?
"When you grow up you can find ways to help the homeless," I consoled.
"I want to help while I'm a child!" he said.
To help fulfill this desire we plan on serving the homeless this Thanksgiving. I don't know who will be more blessed, the one being served, or the one doing the serving. But isn't that what God's love is all about?
God showed me through the eyes of a child what Christ-like/child-like sympathy and compassion were. A love that Acts instead of hesitates. A love that Reaches Out instead of holds back. A love that Helps without analyzing worth or intent. A love that Gives without thought to sacrifice or cost.
That night, as I knelt in prayer, I asked God to forgive me for passing up an opportunity to be an example to my son, and a witness to someone in need.
My "gift" this spring was a "life lesson" learned through the eyes of a child. The next time, when an opportunity comes my way, I'll be sure to embrace it with open arms and an open heart. And this time I'll be sure to say, ... "Something!"
Editor’s note: There are many opportunities to serve and make a difference in the lives of Tucson’s homeless population. For more information, visit www.tpch.org or www.grmtucson.com.
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