I passed a man standing in front of the dollar store wearing a gray “Hershey’s” sweatshirt and a knit winter hat. On the ground nearby, positioned next to a soda machine, he had neatly spread a small brown plaid blanket. Next to it was a black backpack propped against the wall, a portable radio plugged in behind the vending machine and a blue Christmas gift bag on the ground, with items sticking out of it (which I assumed people had dropped in?). I wasn’t sure.Was this guy homeless? Was he Santa? Or an elf? Was he a dollar store employee?
I fully expected him to beg for money as I walked into the store. He didn’t. Instead, he offered me a hearty Christmas greeting.
In the case he was needy and asked me on the way out, I pulled a five dollar bill from my wallet and tucked it into my jeans’ front pocket. As I exited, his belongings were still there, yet he was not in sight. After loading my Fiat with two bags of stocking stuffers (gotta love the dollar store!), I realized I had forgotten rubber bands, which my mamma had asked me to bring her, so I walked back inside.
At the checkout, I asked the clerk, “Is the man outside homeless?” She had no information other than, “He’s new. A different man used to be there. I don’t know about this one.”
The second time I exited the store, he was standing there again.
“Hello,” I said. “So, just curious, what are you doing?”
“Nothing really,” he answered. “I’m just here.” He was jovial and matter of fact.
I didn’t want to blatantly inquire if he was homeless or needy, so I simply extended my hand with the cash. “May I give you this?” And he graciously took it and thanked me.
As I walked away, I called, “And I like your Hershey’s sweatshirt!”
“Thanks,” he said, “And I like your smile.”
Truthfully, it felt better to give a little cash to someone who wasn’t begging or expecting it, than it does to hand money out the window of my car to the expectant cardboard sign holders at multiple intersections. (There are so many lately! And not only during the holidays – all year.)
It felt better to gift that tiny amount of money to a stranger than it did to purchase the dozens of stocking stuffers stashed in my car for my family who is not in need of one thing.
Little gifts. Tiny blessings. This Christmas season, give away a compliment and your smile. Both can carve a special meaning into someone’s day. Both are certainly worth more than a dollar … they’re priceless.
For more on Advent in the Archdiocese of Baltimore, click here.
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