You Never Know, So Inquire

“Petty boy, petty man, petty beggar; that’s what you are,” a woman scoffed as she walked by, kicking soot and dirt into the air, making the lowly man cough and sputter.

The man wore rags and torn bits of clothing and his face was so dirty with grime he was unrecognizable, maybe that’s why no one claimed him or called his name, they didn’t know who he was under all of that filth. He never spoke and occasionally grunted, most thought he was so uneducated he did not know how to speak or words were stranger to him so, if he could speak, he never had anything to say.

It’s funny, really, how no one inquired about him. No one gave the beggar man a penny for his thoughts or a dime for some bread. He simply sat there, trash on the street most people found better to avoid. Some went to such lengths as taking an entirely different route that took much more time and frustration to avoid the man on a daily basis.

Oh, but if they knew. If anyone had thought, maybe he’s important, maybe he can speak, maybe he is kind and not as dirty on the inside as he is on the out…. What if the man was a scientist, needing just some spare change to complete his world-altering, life-changing experiment? What if he was the President and simply in disguise, trying to get on the lowest level of the people and see the world from there? What if he was a kind old soul who had simply lost his way? What if he was the Lord, seeing if you’d greet him and take time from your day?

Whatever the case, whoever he is, no one ever really knew. Until one day, a girl too small to be a model, too big to be a child. A woman not quite an adult but her teenage years grown out of with long blonde hair and a slender figure wearing a skirt suit with a briefcase approached the man. He looked up at her with tired eyes, dull, gray and dead. She could tell he had been mistreated, hurt and neglected. He didn’t know what to think of her but held up a small, dirty, broken cup with a shaking hand with no hope but the will to try. She did not put in money, she didn’t give him a cent, but instead she wrapped her hand around his wrist and pulled him carefully to his unsteady feet. Wrapping her arm around him and with him leaning on her for balance, she took him to a local café and set him in a booth. He tried to get up, but she sat him down and used her hands to show him “stay” and went to the counter.

When the woman returned she had a tray of food. Pancakes, water, orange juice, granola bars, doughnuts, eggs, milk, biscuits, sausage, gravy, jam and honey. He stared at the tray and then at the woman and held out his hands for hers. She took them, they were shaky, papery and frail but held her hands with gratuitous strength.

“Thank you, miss, for your kindness I cannot return!” the man said in a low, husky voice that crackled from disuse, “you have shown this old man hope and love like he hasn’t seen in a long, long time. Bless you, bless you!”

With that he released her hands, which she patted with a smile, and picked up a cup and began to gulp the water away and chased it down with pancakes and sausage. His eyes were bright and his face seemed to have more distinction. Through the grime and filth and muck and dirt the woman saw a man much older than she who had stress lines and worry lines and laugh lines of which he earned from years before this one when he was more than a homeless beggar etched into his once-handsome face.

She went to the counter gave the waitress a note telling her to give the man more food if he wants it and she would come back to pay the bill at lunch. She told her not to let anyone harm the man or yell at him or try to get him to move or leave, the man will not stay longer than to eat and should be no trouble. Then she left, only to return at lunch as she promised and never once again. People saw her example, though, and gave the man some change or a bite to eat every now and then; when he was scoffed at or spat on he was stood up for in memory of the woman who showed him grace.

The woman no one knew or ever saw again. Who never spoke but smiled and, although pristine and pressed, had little money to her name. The woman who went to one town once and never stayed, but helped many along the way. No one inquired to find out who she was or why she did what she did. She could have been a scientist, learning from peoples ways to create a world-changing, life-altering experiment. She may have been the President in disguise, helping the lowest people to set an example for Americans. Maybe she was just a loner woman who was trying to find her way. And what if she was the Lord’s angel, trying to help different people who needed it every day?