So, I was walking down 23rd Avenue last Saturday. It was such a nice evening, after a nice dinner, and 23rd Avenue is one of the nicest avenues you can walk on—with lots of ice cream, shopping bags, music, and toasts. People celebrating the good life.
Then, there are those who are different. Those who aren’t celebrating the good life.
They’re dirty, hungry, and they don’t smell like food scents mixed with laundry detergent and cologne or perfume. They smell different.
Anyway we were walking home after our nice meal of oysters, craft beer, and incredible sandwiches. As usual, I couldn’t finish the other half of meal. It was a Cubano, a well-executed one that made you want to stuff your face, even though you knew you would pay for it later.
That evening I decided to hang onto it and take it home. But my sandwich never made it home with us, as it found a new home. A much better one.
There was an old man on 23rd Avenue, homeless and alone. He didn’t ask for anything—he didn’t beg—he was just minding his own business. He was arranging his colorful blankets just so on the sidewalk, with a serene smile on his face. In a way, he seemed happier than the parade of privilege passing him by.
We passed him, and I stopped and turned around. I asked Mr H: “Can I give him my sandwich?”
He said: “If you want to.”
Without a word, he knew that was all I wanted as I approached the old man on 23rd. To be honest, I’ve never gone up to a homeless person and sparked a conversation. And for a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
I decided small talk was completely ridiculous and pushed my sandwich forward. “Do you want my sandwich?”
Looking back, I hate that I called it mine…my sandwich. It was a sandwich, or this sandwich.
The man struggled to speak. He stared at the container, then at my face several times, with his mouth hanging open. Finally, he said: “I’m a diabetic. There are some meats I can’t eat. I can’t—I can’t eat red meat. Is there…?”
“Just pork. This one’s okay.”
His eyes lit up as he grabbed the container and tore into it. He gazed at the sandwich like he still didn’t believe it was in his hands. He looked straight into my eyes and said: “Thank you, bless you.”
I squeezed his shoulder, my eyes filled to the brim with tears, and said…actually, I’m not sure what I said. Goodbye? Enjoy? Take care? Have a good night? Once again, the small talk seemed totally effing ridiculous. And so, we kept walking down 23rd Avenue.
I’m not expecting an award here by sharing this story. We didn’t do much, but we did something. We could feel it, and we will never forget it.
Because there has been so much crap happening in the world, it’s more important than ever to notices the opportunities to change that. We can’t change the presidential candidates or the terrorist attacks. Hell, we can’t really change ourselves.
What we can do is seize that glimmer, that moment that holds us and gives us a choice, to keep walking down the same avenue or stop and turn around.
Britt Skrabanek 
nice
Love it, thanks for sharing this lovely story!
I think there are plenty of such choices in our day-to-day life. And all too often we “keep walking down the same avenue” and forget to connect with the life around us since we are busy with the one within us. And then there are those moments that remind us how we can make a difference and how everyone else around us can make a difference too – simply by stopping and sharing a “slice of life” with strangers…
Have a wonderful weekend Britt! 🙂
Totally agree, Oliver! There have been many times that I have walked home with leftovers and I could have just given them to someone. I’ve never been one to give out money, but food is a totally different thing because I know it will be used to better their situation in some way.
Hope you have a great weekend too!
A profound and insightful post. It reminded me of this quote: “There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.” Mahatma Gandhi Have a wonderful weekend.
There you go with your perfect quotes again! xo
On my second date with my future husband, he drove to a spot where he knew he could give away our leftover box. Needless to say, I didn’t get him get away. Kind hearts make a good world.
That is beyond awesome! Kind hearts make a good world…love that, Alice!
What a terrific anecdote, Britt — proof that there are opportunities every moment of every day to be engaged, productive members of the human race. All we need do is start taking them…
Indeed, Sean! It’s all too easy to get wrapped up in our own worlds when we can use our time more wisely and help out.
one sandwich at a time 🙂
Right on! One sandwich at a time…love it. 😉
Thanks for taking the time to take time to share. Rainbows in the times of stormy are welcomed.
Sure thing! I know it can be a touchy subject, but I thought the story was definitely worth sharing. xo
Absolutely a great story.
Thanks, darling! Told it as best as I could, though it was hard to capture the emotion I felt.
Well done Britt, proud of you. I hope I’d do the same but I probably never would.
Thanks, Roy! It happened on a whim, and perhaps it was just this particular man that spoke to me without saying anything. I had to do something for him.
Isn’t it nice to see people for what they are– just people. We all need a kind word and sharing soul. That was a “good for you and him” moment.
We are just people! It’s crazy when we think we are anything else, but we all fall into that habit.
This leads on beautifully from your previous post………it’s about being human. 🙂
Cool! Did not plan it that way. I’m not THAT good at blogging. 😉
😀
Yes, we can make that one slight change, the change of looking at others outside of ourselves, and in giving that recognition (along with half a sandwich) we DO change. Ourselves. One person. And perhaps, a little bit of the world. Thank you for this amazing post.
A kind gesture here and there certainly can’t hurt. It’s worth a try, and if it makes an impact then it’s all good. xo
Amazing what little gestures can do. Though… it’s important for the person on the other side to appreciate it too. The man could’ve easily turned sour and affronted that you would be giving him a sandwich, but I’m glad he didn’t. Unfortunately that is not always the case – I remember giving money to this beggar woman on the street, it was all the (little) change I had. She took one look at it, said, “Is that it?!” and threw it back at me. I was… speechless to say the least. 😦
Eek! Sorry to hear that, hon. I haven’t had an experience like that, but I do avoid giving money to people. I feel like food is a stronger currency for someone, because it works no matter what’s happening in their lives.