I learned a little about what it feels like to hold a cardboard sign on a street corner

My first "customers" were actually a pair of young people who walked up to me with big grins on their faces.  She had exclaimed "Awww!" loudly upon reading my sign.  He seemed less enthused yet still willing.  As they approached, she asked with a grin, "Can we do a group hug?"  I said absolutely and so we hugged briefly, exchanged Merry Christmases and carried on.

Getting past that first encounter settled my nerves a bit and also, quite naturally, drew attention.  It wasn't long until I had a second person approach me.  She introduced herself as Keisha and asked if I'd pray for her family.  Willingly, I offered a quick prayer, she smiled shyly at its end and then walked away.

I became more relaxed.

Many of those walking by were overtly averting their eyes, not wanting to allow me into their space, into the hustle and bustle this season brings into people's worlds.  I was absolutely ok with this.  After all, many of us mistrust, suspect, even judge men with cardboard signs on busy street corners.  I certainly do. 

Occasionally, I would cry out to the averters within earshot and say simply, I'm not here for your money, I'm simply looking for people who need hugs or prayers or both.  Some would pretend I had not been heard.  Others would look my way quickly then just as quickly look away.  A few would smile and one or two, without stopping, would simply say, yes, pray for me.  And I would.

One large middle aged black man did stop.  He asked, very quietly, if I would pray for his family.  And so I did.  When finished, he shook my hand firmly and said thank you, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness.  I was moved by his countenance.  His shoulders were stooped as if carrying a great weight.  I pray for him even now as I type these words.

An older woman, silver hair glistening, asked if I'd pray for her family.  I fired a prayer flare for her and her loved ones.  She made my day by thanking me profusely and saying that more people should do what I was doing.

Then there was a gentleman who introduced himself as Aaron.  He stopped, pointed at me with both hands and exclaimed, "You are the man!"  He asked for prayer and when we were done, he firmly clasped my right hand in both of his own and thanked me for what I was doing.  Later he walked by a second time, this time without stopping, but again pointing at me with both fingers and saying "You are the man!".  A short time later, he drove by and honked his horn, pointing at me once more.  He made me smile.

One woman came up to me and attempted to hand me what appeared to be a rolled up $20 bill.  I told her no thanks, that I wasn't looking to receive anything from anyone but to instead give, and in this case, give hugs or prayers or both.  She smiled, taken aback, and after mouthing "Oh!", walked away, clearly bewildered by the encounter.  

And on that brief time went.  

I learned a little about what it feels like to hold a cardboard sign on a street corner.  I learned a lot more about giving way to an inner prompting and being rewarded by it.  And I learned that indeed, it is more blessed to give than to receive, even in the giving of something simple and seemingly cheap.

I will likely do this again one day.

Comments

[Tim Chesterton]

Wow. All I got to say!

[Rick aka Mr. Brutally Honest]

Hoping that's a good Wow Tim!

:)

[Ken Berggren]

I want to know more about this. How did it happen? Whose idea was it? How long did you stay "out there"? Where was it? Were you alone? In a group? Come on, man. I agree, "You da Man!" but tell us more. Inquiring minds want to know.

[Rick aka Mr. Brutally Honest]

I'd be glad to expound a bit BroKen.

I was inspired by a story I had read of two Catholic seminarians in Chicago who'd done something similar only they were giving out Blessings. Later in the week, The Anchoress had, on her Facebook page, opined about setting up a sidewalk counseling booth, much like Lucy on Charlie Brown though perhaps with more compassion. So I brainstormed doing this.

I was out on this sidewalk, between a local Target store and Bed, Bath and Beyond, for a little less than an hour... doing this while the wife was shopping.

And I hope I didn't convey the thought that I really was believing the gentleman who thought I "was da man!"... far from that... was humbly attempting to get into the spirit of Christmas by giving something more than money to people, something I hoped might be meaningful, something that did turn out as such but for me.

Hope this helps.

[Ken Berggren]

Thanks, Rick. I was sincere. You Da Man! I may, if I can drum up the courage, do the same some day. Perhaps you will help spawn a movement like Pay It Forward. Stranger things have happened. Thank you for the example.

[Tim Chesterton]

Very good wow, Rick!