What caught my attention was the way he sat with his knees drawn up, as if he were not really expecting anyone to notice him, as if he were lost in his thoughts.
That and the small cardboard sign, small enough to have been ripped off the top of a moving box, that stated simply "Anything is helpful."
I wanted to pull over and give him my coffee, which I had just gotten at Starbucks, for lack of a more edgy place nearby. Or maybe my son's hot chocolate - he will never miss it, I reasoned, since he doesn't know I have gotten him one. Surely this man needed it more; surely he could be made briefly just a bit happier by a cup of coffee or hot chocolate on a 55 degree morning...
The trouble with helping people on street corners is more obvious downtown, where you can see it in many of the eyes of those who ask for help that they are taking you for a ride. You can see it in the eyes of the urban natives, as they watch the little short girl get approached - already judging me as a silly tourist for not being a total jerk to them. Sometimes I stop and talk with the more entertaining ones outside the Art Institute. But mostly, I shake my head and go on my way, as I have been a grownup now for quite some time, and am not so naive. I feel sad when a super cute chick, who seems put together and intelligent, comes up to me in the parking garage, giving me the line that she needs money for gas to get back to wherever. I say sorry, I don't have any cash. But I want to say, SERIOUSLY?
So with these thoughts tumbling around, I didn't give him anything. I had already gone by anyhow. But it bugged me all day. Because my sense was that maybe he was one of the ones that do need help... And so if I see him today, I think I will definitely buy him a cup of something helpful... Not like that makes me a good person, or like it's going to change his life beyond those few moments of warmth...
