I was walking the streets of Manhattan with two teenagers from North Carolina. The two teens were a part of a visiting team of 45 that joined us for our weekly Don’t Walk By outreach.
Every Thursday we split the center of midtown Manhattan into zones and we walk the streets from 6:30 – 9:15 PM in search of folks that the rest of the world has forgotten. We do a larger version of this outreach every Saturday in February with a consortium of Christ-centered organizations called the Rescue Alliance (www.dontwalkby.org).
On this particular Thursday I was leading a group from 7th Ave to Park Ave, and from 36th Street to 42nd. This area includes Bryant Park, which is right behind a massive public library that simultaneously attracts tourists and street-bound children of God. We had encountered a few people and had given away a few pairs of socks, but on the whole it was a slow night.
When we entered the park I saw a guy in a green uniform emptying out one of the trash cans so I decided to enlist his assistance.
“Excuse me. We are volunteering with an outreach event to help connect people living in the street to resources and help. Do you know where we could find anybody in need of a new pair of socks, hygiene kit, or a meal?”
“Right over there.” He pointed into the far corner. “God bless you, for what you’re doing.” He stuck out his hand with a big smile.
It doesn’t surprise me that there are angels working with the parks department.
We meandered over to where he had pointed and there was an older white man trying to plug his phone into an outlet. He was struggling. He had bags on a table nearby. His wrinkled face was rosy and he had layer upon layer of clothing to protect him from the elements.
“Are you trying to charge your phone?” I asked.
“Yes. But this doesn’t seem to be working. I don’t know how to use this thing. I got this ‘Obama-phone’ yesterday. It won’t charge.” While there are many folks living in the street who are tech-savvy, many are not.
“Let me take a look. I have some experience with these things.”
The “Obama-phone” is a government funded cell phone that is free for folks who qualify by being on food stamps, welfare, or SSI/SSD. One gets 250 minutes per month and free text messaging on a very basic device. I’ve spent hours over the last 5 years signing people up, charging, and calling folks with them.
I’m a huge fan of the program because it’s ridiculous to assume that someone can navigate a place like New York City, let alone get a job, if they can’t be reached. Those phones are often the difference between someone getting the help and encouragement they need and spending more nights in the street than they have to.
I plugged his phone in and the light didn’t go on, so I pulled it out and hit the power button. Sure enough the screen lit up like a Christmas tree and the little battery signal was saturated from top to bottom.
“It’s not charging because it’s already fully charged.” I told him, handing him his phone.
“Oh thank you. Thank you.” He replied as if I had pulled him from a burning building.
“What’s your name?” One of the teens with me spoke up.
“Bill,” he said. “What’s yours, young man?”
We told him our names and immediately Bill opened up. He started telling us about how beautiful the park is. How blessed he is to live in this magnificent city. He told us where and how to sneak into a Broadway show during the intermission because, in his words, “they don’t care at that theater, they are good people.”
When he told us he sleeps on the subway, he wasn’t complaining.
When we asked how we could pray for him, he directed us to pray for others because, as he put it, “I’m truly happy. How could I not be happy? Look around.”
He dropped scripture on us, Matthew 6 to be precise. Bill was a living breathing example of a man who lived “like the lilies of the field.”
“Stop worrying,” he commanded us. “Your Heavenly Father knows what you need.”
He prayed over us. For the “young man” he prayed that he would always trust God and not get distracted by what the world tells him is important.
Towards the end of our conversation, Bill said, “you never know how God is going to bless you. He sent me three beautiful people to talk to and make my day.”
People often think that we are the ones with something to offer people in the street. That they “need what we have.” And to a certain extent that’s true. We all do have something to offer. But in the same breath that I say that folks who are homeless need you, I will also say, “you need them.”
I needed to learn from Bill that night. I needed to sit at his feet and let him be the voice of God in my life. I needed to receive what he was giving away.
Next time you feel like serving in a soup kitchen, clothing bank, food pantry, or doing some other “good” or “charitable” deed, remember that each life that you touch has the capacity to touch you right back. And just as you give, if you are open to it, you will also receive.
Grace and Peace,
Josiah Haken
