Manna from Heaven?

580 words

         Yesterday, my sister and I decided to drive up the street to pick up some fresh fruit at the supermarket. She wanted to treat us with chocolate mousse dessert. She was bubbling over telling us what she learned from her socializing in Miramar Beach, Florida, where she and her husband just bought a second home.

         As we crossed the street, from the parking lot on to Stater Brothers, she said in low tone voice, “Uh, uh, he’s there.”

         “Who?” I said.

         “Tom. He was at our Tuesday night Bible Study group quite a while ago. When he stopped attending, we inquired about his whereabouts. We were told that he lost his house, his car, and everything else he possessed. He’s been down on his luck since then. I have seen him at different supermarkets panhandling. The last time, I saw him at Trader Joe's with his “HELP THE HOMELESS" sign.

         “Where?” I scanned the surroundings while listening to her at the same time.

         “Oh, he’s sitting on the bench holding the sign,"  she said as she walked faster towards the door.

         All she needed were bananas, strawberries and blueberries and we proceeded to the cash register in less than ten minutes. Heading out the door, she turned towards the opposite side.

         “We’re parked on this side,” I clued her in.

         “Let’s go this way. I don’t want to pass by him again.”

         “You feel guilty, don’t you? I know. Makes us uncomfortable.”

         Crossing the street, heading back to the car, I couldn’t resist.

         “I’ll walk this way. I forgot how he looks. I’ll check him out,” I said.

         “Yeah, sure. Go that way. I don’t think he’ll recognize you.”

         “I’ll catch you over there.”

         I walked towards him as close as I could to catch a glimpse of him. He’s still sitting on the bench. Looks healthy and clean with whitish hair and a few wrinkles on his brow and face, I thought.

         Then, I pivoted towards my sister as she approached her car almost the same time I did.

         From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something on the ground. I looked closer and saw a twenty-dollar bill right in front of me. I stooped to pick it up, thinking, perhaps it’s toy money. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? No. This is a real twenty-dollar bill.  I know. Heaven sent this to me for him. That homeless man, Tom.

         “Bebs, look at what I found. I’ll give it to him,” I announced.

         “Yeah, go ahead, give it to him,” my sister, who I fondly call Bebs for baby sister, wholeheartedly agreed. 

         “Pick me up over there.”

         “Sure,” my sister said.

         As I approached him, he was not paying attention at first. His gaze was following other passersby who ignored his presence there.  I finally caught his eye and I extended my hand to him with the $20 bill.

         His countenance lightened as he said, “God bless you. Thank you.”

         “God bless you too,” I responded.

         “You’re very generous,” he said, after he took a second look at the money in his hand.

         “It’s heaven-sent,” I replied, as I turned away, headed towards my sister’s car.

         I couldn’t wait to get home to tell my husband what happened.

          “Now there are two people in the world who are happy: the man with the twenty dollar bill and the lady who gave it to him,” he said.

         Indeed, it was manna from heaven for a downtrodden man who desperately needed a break.