I want a burger

On one rainy afternoon last week, Erin & I walked in the rain to grab some lunch. We decided it would be best to walk to one of closer resturants, "Eat a Pita". It's one of those places that serves pretty much everything - burgers, wraps, salads, including any other greasy concoctions one may desire. I decided to settle for a simple grilled cheese. As we waited to our orders to arrive, a woman walked in. She was probably in her mid thirties, wearing a worn dirty yellow sweat shirt and grey sweat pants. Covering her head was a fleece hat, made of a purple and neon green geometric design, with a bright purple fur trim. She sat down on a table by the door. She seemed kinda loopy and not really with it. We grabbed our food and started walking. As I followed Erin out the door, we made eye contact.

"I want a burger."

I smiled and kept walking. I wasn't really sure if she was asking me for one or just stating that she felt like eating a burger. I kept thinking about our interaction more and more with each step away from Eat a Pita.

"Erin was she asking us to buy her a burger?"
"I don't know."

We stopped walking for a moment, and then turned around to buy the burger. She was right behind us, and her face lit up as soon we began walking towards her. She stopped me.

"I want a burger with everything," she said, "and some fries too."

By now I had decided that she was either mentally handicapped or really drunk or really high. I'm ashamed to say that I couldn't tell the difference. I ordered the burger, with everything. And then came the hard part.

At first, I just wanted to smile, say you're welcome, and walk out the door. Followed by instant guilt for not wanting to talk to her. When I turned around from the counter, I was met with eager eyes.

"They'll bring it out to you soon," I said. She smiled. The kind of smile you'd expect to see from a five year old in a candy shop. She motioned for me to sit down, I hesitated. Erin took a seat across from her. I was still standing, thinking of a way to tell her that I had to leave. Instead, I just stood there. She got up and offered me her seat, wiping the seat cover with her sleeve. At this point, I had not choice but to sit down.

We were there for no longer five minutes. Five long minutes.

"I like your hat," said Erin, "Where did you get it?"

"I found it!" she said, and there was that smile again. I just watched her as she told us about how she had found her hat in a dumpster, how she was looking forward to her burger, how she didn't like the rain.

The lady behind the counter announced our burger. I grabbed the basket from her and handed it to my new friend. She immediately flipped the top bun and said, "Where's the ketchup? They didn't put everything." Her voice trailing with dissapointment. It made me laugh. "There's some ketchup right here," I said pointing to the red bottle on the table. She laughed too as she squirted some on her bun.

"Well enjoy your burger!" I said, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. She nodded, her eyes unwilling to leave sight of her burger. As I headed for the door, she grabbed my hand, and hugged me.

Walking back to work, I wondered where she lived, where she ate, where she slept. I wondered if she had any family. I wondered how many times I had passed her by on the street without taking any notice.

Quarters in Chinatown

I believe in Mercy – the kind of Mercy that enables us to give to others when we ourselves are in need of help.

Earlier this summer I found myself at a parking meter in the middle of Chinatown. I fumbled through my black hole of a bag, digging for just one elusive quarter. There was no need to panic, I told myself as I searched. A couple minutes passed and I noticed a homeless man walking towards me from across the street. He looked worn, tired, but young, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. His once white shirt resembled slushy traffic snow. There was dirt on his face, his hands, his hair. “Can I talk to you about something sister?” Could I just pretend like I didn’t see or hear him? Honestly, all I remember was something about the homeless shelter he frequented being shut down due to lack of funding. It was going to be replaced with newly constructed condominiums. “I’m sorry I don’t have any cash on me”. Well at least I wasn’t lying. “That’s ok Ma’am. Could you buy a brother something to eat?” Yes, yes of course I thought, as soon as I found this dumb quarter. “Umm. Yea I don’t have any cash right now, sorry.” As he reached for his pocket, I thought, Oh my God, he’s going to pull out a knife or a gun. I was convinced that this man was going to mug me, steal my purse and take my car.

“Here, you can have my quarters.”

I heard the words echo over and over again in my head as though he had spoken them in an open canyon. “Oh no that’s ok. Thanks,” I said with an awkward smile. My face turned crimson, and a sense of guilt spread from the core of my body to the tips of my fingers. I frantically began emptying the contents of my purse on the sidewalk. And then the words came out again:

“Here, Sister. You can have my quarters.”

I realized that perhaps he was a better human than I. Perhaps, he truly knew what it meant to come to someone's aid. I murmured a prayer; please let me see a bank, please let me see a bank. And then, I finally saw it. On the corner stood my redemption, in the form of a Chase bank.

“Would you wait here for me?” I said. “I'll be right back.”

As I walked back to my car, I saw him waiting, sitting on the sidewalk. “I hope your shelter stays open,” I said as I handed him the envelope. It wasn't much, but it was all I could afford at the time. In return he handed me a postcard of Chicago. A beautiful picture of the Chicago skyline on a gorgeous summer day.

This is our city I thought, and there has to be a place for him to live in it.

Spirit of Christmas

It's Christmas morning, and Chicago seems like a ghost town. Around 2pm I decided to venture into the streets to try and find an open restaurant. A long walk and some Starbucks later, I was back at the office. While walking towards the elevator I noticed there was a man waiting for it as well. I wondered why someone would be here on Christmas day. We exchanged a cordial "Happy Holidays" as we entered the elevator. "What are you doing here?" I said. "I'm here for the Soup Kitchen," he replied, "We're open every Monday, all year long." He smiled. He seemed so fulfilled. My thoughts kept returning to him for the rest of the day. How many people would dedicate themselves to the care of others? People depended on him for their meals, and he knew it.

At around 5pm I locked up my office and prepared to head home. As I walked out of my building, I found a man standing at the door. I knew that he couldn't get into the building unless someone let him in since the doors were locked from the outside. As soon as we made eye contact, he asked me a question. I didn't quite understand him at first. He was a middle aged white man, with blue eyes, average height. He had an old jacket and a back pack. "Are they open today?" His accent was thick, eastern European perhaps? "Yea I think so," I said.

"I don't want to wait here if they aren't open you know?" And I realized that it was only 5pm, they wouldn't be serving food until 7. This man was going to wait in the cold wind for two hours for a meal. "Do you want to check to make sure?" I asked as I turned back to the door to let us in. We walked in silence back to Leslie hall, where the soup kitchen served their meals. A few men were folding clothes that had been donated on tables. "Are you all open today?" I asked. "Yes, we're open every Monday all year long," said one of the men. I turned to see my new friend standing a few feet behind me. They're open I said, smiling. He didn't say anything, just nodded, turned and started walking towards the door. "Do you want to wait inside?" I asked, a little uncomfortable with the question myself. I mean, I didn't know who he was or where he came from or what his story was. "No I wait outside," he said. With that he walked out the door in front of us and stood in the cold waiting for the next two hours to pass so he could have a hot meal on Christmas. "Merry Christmas!" I said as I walked to my car. Who was I kidding, it's not a Merry Christmas when you're standing outside a building in 30 degree weather for one meal. I sat in my car for a moment and watched this man. He was blowing into his hands to keep them warm, and had pulled his hood over his head. He didn't ask me for any money. He didn't ask for any assistance. He didn't even ask if he could wait inside the building. Instead he stood in the cold and embraced his fate.

As I drove away I found myself stopping in front of the CVS Pharmacy. Inside I bought a pair of gloves, before walking over to the Dunkin Donuts to get a chai. When I drove back to my building, I saw him standing there still, for only 15 minutes had passed since my first departure. "I have some tea for you!" I announced trying to sound as cheerful as possible. I handed him the tea and the bag containing the gloves. For a moment he stared at me as if he didn't recognize me, and then "Ooooooh, Thank you! Thank you!" His blue eyes lit up as did his smile. "You're most welcome." As I walked away, I glanced in his direction again, and a sense of sadness came upon me. Standing next to my new friend were three men, blowing into their hands, trying to keep warm as they waited...