20 years of grace

wow. twenty years.
as i sit here writing a paper into my twentieth year of life i find it crazy to think that i am now two decades old because it's a number i so distinctively remember associating with "old" when i was younger. am i finally getting old??

annnyway, today.. or yesterday? while i was at fnf, i went out with my friend joanne to grab some food before our meeting and on our way to the restaurant i saw a homeless man pushing a cart piled high with a bunch of different things. i was chatting with joanne but the sight of him pushing that cart was so odd to me. i mean, it's not unusual to see homeless people in little tokyo considering how close skid row is but what stood out to me was how he seemed to be struggling to push his cart. like the cart was really heavy or something. then i noticed a leg. a leg poking out over the cart from under the pile of blankets. to be honest, my initial reaction was fear. was it a dead body? a kidnapped child? but those thoughts were quickly replaced with shame as i realized i was doing what i hated most. assuming. while these thoughts were flitting through my mind, we were slowly getting closer to each other. as i got closer i realized the body was one of another homeless person (maybe a woman or child?) and the homeless man was pushing this person along in his cart while he/she slept. the shame came flooding back quickly with an inexplicable kind of heartbreak. the idea that this man who possibly had nothing was investing himself in the life of this other person put me close to tears. but we were still walking and soon i had passed the man and his cart and could only catch a glimpse of him over my shoulder as i turned into the restaurant.

after ordering and getting our food to go, joanne and i left quickly to get back to our meeting on time. on our way back, i saw the man again. this time he had stopped to sit and rest. the feet that had been poking out of the cart now rested on his lap as he sat there. i have never seen such sad forlorn eyes. as we passed, i felt a huge urge to just stop and ask how he was doing and encourage him. i imagine the hardest part of being homeless (besides the obvious) would be being ignored. being treated like you're so unimportant that people can just pretend you're not there. that nobody would bother simply asking how you're doing. i really really wanted to just stop and chat with him and possibly offer him the food i had just bought without a second thought. but that second, third, fourth thought came and soon i was passing him and once again only looking wistfully back over my shoulder.

i am literally still kicking myself for not having the nerve to step back from my selfish schedule to offer him some of my time or money. but there is something i definitely learned: to be thankful for what i do have. 20 years of life? thats a blessing. 20 years of a comfortable life? thats grace. honestly, there is nothing that made me more qualified or eligible than that man.
(but on that note, i feel like that's also why i am always so blown away by people who continue to be grateful in suffering and trouble.)

anyway, random homeless man. i am praying for you! please stay strong.

and as i enter the second decade of my life i am thankful for life and the innumerable blessings that i do not deserve.