This post originally appeared on my site, Simplicity In The Suburbs but I thought it worthwhile to share here too.
I saw him from across the street and I knew. I knew my little girl, with her bleeding heart for others, would stop and want to help him. Wind blowing, the crisp air biting our cheeks, we rushed across the street, me carrying Miss F, our friends just ahead of us and Miss E starts reading, "Home lllllesss...."
"and hunnnnn gry. Mom, he is homeless and hungry. We need to help him." She stopped right smack on the corner of Michigan Avenue and Delaware in downtown Chicago. Her feet are glued to the ground, she will not budge until we do something, anything to help this man who's sitting on the sidewalk, blankets and trash all around him.
I dig my hand in my coat pocket and grab a handful of change and hand it to her and she bends down, sticks it in the mans plastic cup and while dozens of people are walking every which direction around us, she makes eye contact with him as he says, "Thank you."
She tells him you're welcome and we are on our way and I am ever aware that she is on the lookout for more souls she can help. She looks back at him as we turn the corner and says, "I'm so sad he is homeless."
Hours later we are en route home, a seven hour drive ahead of us, I tell her I am proud that she stopped and helped that man.
"Oh mom, it's what I do," she says. "I help people." And she grins a solid grin that she does so well and says, "Don't forget we need to make some bags for people."
Yes, yes. I say and nod.