It was a beautiful afternoon on Father’s Day. The youth from the Society of Saint Andrew’s Harvest of Hope descended on Franklin Park, just four blocks from the White House. As they got out their bags of sandwiches and drinks, about 50 homeless men quietly lined up for something to eat. When I asked how many of them had not eaten since the day before, about two thirds of them raised their hands. Holidays are sometimes tough days to be homeless.
George took his place near the back of the line. I had known him for several years. He was a big man, usually armed with a ready smile and something funny to say. He worked at temporary construction jobs. When he had a good week he earned a decent income. But there were other weeks when he made nothing. This was one of those weeks. As he stood in line, George said, “Man I’m glad you’re here. I haven’t eaten in three days.”
Knowing George to be a kidder, I said, “Yeah, right George.”
“No, really. I haven’t eaten in three days.”
“Aw, c’mon George.”
He said, “No, I’m serious.”
Then I turned and looked in his eyes. They had that desperate, pleading look of a hungry person. You can’t fake that. I’ve seen it too many times.
At about that time, George got the next to last sandwich. As he began to unwrap it, he saw a guy who was unlucky enough to miss the food. Without a word, George gave him half of his sandwich. What a sacrifice! I stood there dumbfounded as George savored the few bites of the half sandwich he kept.
Seeing George’s selflessness forced me to look at my own life. How much am I willing to sacrifice for poor and hungry people? Am I willing to make a real sacrifice? John the Baptist said that if you have two coats, give one to someone who has none. I guess that applies to sandwiches, too.
Oh, by the way, I took George to a fast food restaurant and got him all he could eat.
