Our Corner of the Workd

When you're on a mission and you live your life in Service to G-d Almighty what appears as nothing to someone else might be a different dialogue to you.

Yesterday I came out of the grocery store.

A tall Black man in a bright orange sweatshirt was carrying an almost empty small sports "duffel" briefcase bag.

I'm sure the people coming and going to and from the store thought me a 

"sucker" to fall for this mans 

story of woe. 

Perhaps I am.

But when I saw the look in his eyes, he appeared humiliated and struggling.

I thought, what G-d puts on my screen, in my field of vision or part of my Daled Amos (my 4-cubit space of the world I am responsible for), I thought differently.

I listened to his plight. He was on unemployment, his check had not arrived, he did not want to sleep in the shelter, rather he wanted money to rent a $47.00 hotel room. He had $20 and needed help getting the remainder.

"There but the Grace of G-d go I."

My husband was also off work a couple weeks ago.  He was working at the Bakersfield Californian when the executive editor announced the bottom line in January was off and they were forced to let the last hired be the first fired or "laid off". 

I asked the man in orange to give me a minute to see what I could do. I felt G-d's presence instructed me to help him.

I am never allowed to offer a ride. 

So I returned with some cash for his hotel room. Rather than take him there, I added five extra bucks to get a bus pass.

 Granted I am not exactly in cash excess at the moment, but I am in emunah (faith) and bitachon (trust) excess so I decided to help.

I figured if G-d needed me to help this man, then I certainly had nothing to worry about for myself.

I hoped after I gave him the cash he would offer a word of blessing in return, usually that is payment enough for me.

When he saw that I gave him the cash he needed, I saw him emerge from a deep dark state of disbelief.

So I asked him for a blessing in return.

He asked my name.

Brocha, I answered.

It took hearing Brocha a couple times to get it. 

Once he figured that he heard correctly,

he said, "G-d's Blessings to you Brocha".

I fought off wondering if others nearby thought me a fool.

And I told myself that, at the worse, how good could he be doing if he was forced to stand outside the grocery store to beg.

So whether I'm right (which I am) or not, I choose connection. Connection to help. Connection to make safe choices in a safe time, space and place. 

That's taking care of what's on my screen and my corner of the world.