What I anticipate more than anything when we travel is the wonder of who we will cross paths with. We always seem to meet someone along the way and at the point of destination willing to share a piece of their story with us. I am a firm believer that stories are manifested to be poured into one another. Walking along the shoreline looking out upon the sheer vastness of water I began to ponder this very thing. I imagined the ocean to be a collection of words...trillions of words floating along with others not their own. What a magnificent sight to behold! I have poured a few in there myself and those of people I've met along my journey. Some would say I am quite talkative, and I would say yes they are correct. My father has placed much in me, too much to contain within the bounds of myself. I have learned enough to know that they are not my own.
A slender man in his 50's carefully approached my love and I Sunday night along the Tampa Bay Riverwalk. He spoke to us from a distance, his posture that of someone who is not a stranger to rejection. The first words to come out of his mouth were “Excuse me.” It was obvious that he needed something from us. Most people would say that he wanted something, but one look through a clear lens and you would know right off that he was in need. We stopped and listened to him give us his rehearsed story I'm sure had been given more times than one can count. It only took a second for us to invite him along with us.
Walking slowly side by side engaged in conversation as new friends do he began to share with drive pieces of himself with us. We learned that Tampa has been his home for twenty years, Queen Elizabeth had visited there, his mother had fourteen siblings, and he was an only child. My heart smiled when I asked him if he worked and he said that he loves to use his hands doing odd jobs, but he really wanted a job that was straight. I asked what that job would entail and he unashamedly said that he aspired to be a garbage man...to Mr. James that would be a straight job!
Approaching Starbucks he hurried in front of us to open the door motioning us in first as any gentleman would do. I could see the faces of those sitting in their summer evening wear embracing Venti Lattes. What were we doing that was so strange? They too had brought friends for refreshment. Upon entering the tiny store Mr. James carefully inspected his sandwich and drink choices in detail. He settled on a turkey sandwich, organic green tea and a slice of lemon pound cake. I myself was quite impressed with his choice to go organic.
What I will remember most about my new friend is that he engaged us in the eye when speaking and gripped our hands firmly when thanking us repeatedly. He had more ambition than most, striving for stability in an unstable world. No one would charge him for curling up in a box, but to him that just isn't good enough. Staring into his eyes I could see much life left to behold. A rare gem of unmeasurable value in our midst.
I must admit that I do carry some what of regret now that I will probably not see him again. I regret not asking him to sit down with us so we could learn more about his journey. I would venture to assume that he isn't asked to sit and partake of meals on a regular basis. I just have to pray that his encounter with us was as special as ours with him. I am now pouring this story into others, but only after I swim in it a bit longer. The story of Mr. James offers me much needed refreshment. If you are ever in Tampa and see my slender friend please take him to our favorite spot Starbucks. I am proud to say that he is not just any homeless man. My friend has good taste buds and should not have to compromise just because he does not have a roof. Maybe he knows something we don't.
James 2:15-16 If a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food and one of you says to them, "Depart in peace, be warmed and filled." but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does that profit?
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