After my class with Patty finished at 9:45pm, I wasn't really tired. Going all the way back to Alcala just to go to bed did not seem very appealing. And so, instead, I went o 100 Montaditos for some mini sandwiches and some beer! Ooohhhhh yeah! ^_^ Noms.
On my way to the train, a homeless man was asking for money, walking the street with his palms open. Like any large city, Madrid has its share of homeless people, and generally I don't give them anything (unless they have a litter of puppies, like they guy did yesterday ), except for the ones on the trains who walk up and down through each car leaving a little note on each seat along with a small pack of tissues. I always take the tissues and give them a euro. Once I even got a lighter, and that was actually really exciting, too! Ha.
Anyway, the point is I don't usually give homeless people on the street money. But this guy, he just had that look in his eyes. That look like all he wanted was somebody to really see him as a fellow person - for a little spark of hope. Though I've never been homeless, I could empathize with that look and feeling, as it was something I had felt a fair few times last year, myself, but for various other reasons.
I walked passed him, my guard up as usual, speeding up a little as he approached me and shaking my head and trying to smile a bit but saying, "No, lo siento." But as I rushed by, he didn't look upset, as I had expected him to. Instead, he smiled an authentic smile, tipped his head, and wished me a good night, addressing me as, "Senorita."
There was something in the grace of it all that took me aback. I'm not sure exactly what it was about it, but it was quite strong. I slowed my pace as I rounded the corner and pulled out my wallet. I found a three euros in coins and turned around. I smiled at him as I approached and gently place the money in his hands. He was eager to count it and I left just as quickly as I had appeared.
I'm not sure three euro can do very much for him really, but I was hoping it was enough to light at least a little spark of hope in him, as I know it's more than I'm sure the average person who actually gives him something would give. :-/
I used to have a low opinion of people asking for money in the streets, like they were cheating the system or probably lying about their circumstances. But the fact is, just to do that takes away so much dignity from a person, that, in the end, it doesn't really matter what the real story is. As I continue to realize my ability to see the light in little kids - and especially, sometimes, in the "difficult" kids - I wonder if my ability spans outside of that, and to others who the "average adult" just overlooks out of habit and thinking they're superior. I'm not sure, but I do hope so.
More and more recently I've been starting to see how my friendship with Conor has had a profound affect on who I'm turning out to be and who I'm growing into - far more than I had originally believed. And every time I realize it, I'm delighted.
At the time it didn't really make sense to most, I'd assume, why a ridiculously innocent and rather sheltered 14 year old would become such close friends with a 17 year old who was in deep with drugs. But the thing was, I never saw him as a user or as a dealer; I just saw him for who he was - and I absolutely adored that boy (and continue to). And it's that understanding and seeing past the facade of assumptions that I gained from my relationship with him - and that's exactly what is starting to enable my ability to see kids (and maybe someday adults) for more than what others think they are.
In any case, I hope the man was able to get something a little better than usual to eat that night and to find a warm place to sleep. I know I didn't really do very much to help him, but I hope he was able to feel like somebody had seen him as a person in those moments, if nothing else.
XOXO
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