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What you are about to read is one of my journal entries from August of 2001.  I was thumbing through it the other day and deemed this one worthy of the public forum.

As I was walking out of Borders book store today, on my way back to the office from lunch.  I observed a gentleman that appeared to be in his mid fifties sitting in a wheel chair.  In his lap he held a large homemade sign that read “Homeless Veteran, Please Help if you can.”  It was murderously hot outside with a reported heat index of 110 degrees.  I climbed into my car, turned the A/C to max and just stared at the guy. 

As I studied the man, all I could think of was my own father.  My Dad was a DAV. (Disabled American Veteran)  He served in the infantry during World War Two and was wounded when shards from a German bomb tore through his lower back.  For the majority of his life, he walked with the aid of crutches.  I gazed at this man for what seemed like half an hour, thinking of the sacrifices my dad had made on behalf of this country and wondering if he too may have done the same.

If I would have had a dollar to my name I would have given him my last.  As luck would have it, I had spent my only four bucks on a value meal at McDonalds.  I felt so guilty as I looked on at this man with what little pride he may have had left, sprawled out on a piece of cardboard in a plea for help.  I was ashamed that I had a car with cold air flowing through the vents while he sat in a chair in the miserable heat of the day. 

I’m a rather big man in stature.  I stand about 6’3” and tilt the scales around 240 on a good day.  Yet, my heart is so easily ripped from me at the sight of suffering people.  Yes, I’m one of those folks that give money to the guy standing on the exit ramp with a sign that says “Will Work for Food”.  Many people would consider me overly tender hearted and to be blunt, just a sucker for a con job.  In all honesty, that is an offense that I must admit guilt for.  When I think of the pride and self respect that one must swallow in order to ask strangers for a hand out or should I say a hand up, it deeply touches me.   

Now don’t go and make the mistake of thinking I’m just some bleeding heart do gooder.  Fact is, I’m far from being granted sainthood of any sort.  There have been times in my life when you would truly wonder if I had a conscience at all.  It is simply a matter of my being unable to bare the sight of such pain in the lives of others.  Ours is the richest and most powerful nation on the face of the earth and yet we still have children who starve and Veterans begging on sidewalks.  No, it’s not right!