It was a sun-drenched afternoon, the kind that usually tugs at the corners of your heart, urging you to connect with another soul. I was driving down McDowell, the vibrant life of the city unfolding before me when I caught sight of him—a man hunched against the worn-out parking lot pillar of a closed storefront. His clothes were tattered, his skin weathered, yet there was a certain dignity that radiated from him, a quiet resilience that struck me.
As I approached with a sense of curiosity mixed with unease, an undeniable tugging sensation gripped my gut. It whispered to me, a gentle insistence to turn around and return to him. I obeyed the impulse, knowing deep down that this encounter would be more than a fleeting moment.
“Excuse me,” I said as I stepped out of my car, nervous yet resolute. “Are you hungry?”
His eyes flickered open, and he looked at me with a clarity that surprised me. “Yes, may I please have some water and a snack?”
He didn’t ask for much. Just the basics. I pondered that for a moment before walking into the nearby Circle K. I navigated the aisles, my thoughts racing—picking up a couple of hot dogs, a bag of chips, and a gallon of water. Each item felt monumental, each selection a silent testament to our shared humanity.
With my hands clutching the plastic bags filled with food, I returned to him. He was sitting in the same spot, and when I handed over the offerings, something extraordinary unfolded. Carlos raised his hands in gratitude, closing his eyes briefly as he uttered, “Thank you, Lord, you always keep your word and feed me daily.”
His words pierced through the air, hanging like a delicate thread connecting us. I was taken aback, the sincerity of his thanks washing over me like a tide. It ignited a flicker of something long buried within me—a deep, almost forgotten appreciation for life’s simple gifts.
In that moment, I felt the weight of my own indifference peel away, replaced by a profound realization. It had been far too long since I had truly expressed thanks. For a while, I had lost sight of what really mattered—of who mattered.
Carlos didn’t see himself as lesser because of his circumstances, and that was enlightening. “I hope this helps, Carlos,” I said, my voice steadying, my heart swelling with newfound purpose.
He nodded, joy illuminating his face as he opened the bags, revealing the treasure inside. The hot dogs, the water, the chips—they were more than food now; they were a lifeline. A shared moment that transcended our differences, a reminder that kindness holds the power to transform.
As I walked back to my car, I felt light, a little lighter than before. My mission to advocate for the less fortunate had begun at that very moment, interwoven with an act of kindness that spoke volumes. I had been the dealer of sustenance that day, yet in truth, I walked away nourished far beyond the physical. I understood then that we are, in essence, reflections of one another, both seeking to be seen, valued and loved.