I hand him his ice cold drink and smile and look him in the eye.
Even though I don’t even know his name.
He tells me that I’m doing a good thing.
He has seen me down here most days this week.
Dragging my blue cooler along behind me full of water and juice and sodas.
Handing them out freely to the men and women melting into the sidewalks down on East Lancaster Street.
Some are napping. Some are talking in groups. Some are smoking and some are doing things I don’t even want to know about.
It usually only takes me minutes to empty my cooler.
I’m not really sure how to respond to my new friend.
Because I want to do something good I suppose.
I want to at least do something.
Even though 95% of the time I am content sitting on the couch.
Reading.
Blogging.
Checking facebook.
So I just kind of stand there staring into his face for a minute.
And he repeats it.
“You are doing a good thing here. You are a good person.”
And I tell him, “No, I’m really not.”
No one really is.
As a matter of fact I’m hung over.
I’m tired.
I’m often unkind and ungracious.
I started my day having to make apologies for the night before.
I’m wrestling with some of my judgments and motivations.
I have had the entire week off without my kids (that I miss terribly) and haven’t even managed to unpack from my trip.
So I repeat that last part.
“No, I’m not good. I just managed to get off the couch.”
And he laughed and said he had a hard time doing that himself.
Even though his couch was just a concrete slab with the teensiest bit of shade.
And he leaned back far and sipped his cool drink.
Let out a good sigh and wiped his brow.
And assured me that “God would bless me.”
And I said I hope so.
And that I think he just did.
(This post is part of a project going on over at bigger picture blogs....and this week hosted by one of my favorite bloggers corrine.)
Even though I don’t even know his name.
He tells me that I’m doing a good thing.
He has seen me down here most days this week.
Dragging my blue cooler along behind me full of water and juice and sodas.
Handing them out freely to the men and women melting into the sidewalks down on East Lancaster Street.
Some are napping. Some are talking in groups. Some are smoking and some are doing things I don’t even want to know about.
It usually only takes me minutes to empty my cooler.
I’m not really sure how to respond to my new friend.
Because I want to do something good I suppose.
I want to at least do something.
Even though 95% of the time I am content sitting on the couch.
Reading.
Blogging.
Checking facebook.
So I just kind of stand there staring into his face for a minute.
And he repeats it.
“You are doing a good thing here. You are a good person.”
And I tell him, “No, I’m really not.”
No one really is.
As a matter of fact I’m hung over.
I’m tired.
I’m often unkind and ungracious.
I started my day having to make apologies for the night before.
I’m wrestling with some of my judgments and motivations.
I have had the entire week off without my kids (that I miss terribly) and haven’t even managed to unpack from my trip.
So I repeat that last part.
“No, I’m not good. I just managed to get off the couch.”
And he laughed and said he had a hard time doing that himself.
Even though his couch was just a concrete slab with the teensiest bit of shade.
And he leaned back far and sipped his cool drink.
Let out a good sigh and wiped his brow.
And assured me that “God would bless me.”
And I said I hope so.
And that I think he just did.
(This post is part of a project going on over at bigger picture blogs....and this week hosted by one of my favorite bloggers corrine.)
Comments
You did good, lady :)
The hardest part is getting off the couch. Seriously.
Thank you SO much for linking up. Don't stress about unpacked suitcases :)
I agree with Corinne; the hardest part IS getting off the couch.
Glad to meet you through bigger picture blogs. :)
I'm glad you linked up, and glad you got off the couch :)