More Tire Tales - Diversions at My Favorite Tire Company

Late this afternoon I headed over to my favorite tire company.  If you have read my previous posts, you understand that Discount Tire Company has become a second home for me.  (And, you really do need to read the previous post to fully understand)  It's been a place of refuge and discovery along the path of interruptions from normal busy life.  Today I returned to have two tires put on my car that were ordered because of my previous blowouts!  As I headed to South Blvd., I breathed a quick prayer, or maybe it was more of a question to God, "wonder who You will put in my path today to take care of?"  Less you think I'm some wonder woman who naturally looks for adventure, I had contemplated sitting in the outside waiting area and reading a good book or just enjoying some quiet alone time from the business of life.

I decided to plant myself in the outside waiting area.  There were three empty chairs and I thought if I sit in the middle one, then someone would eventually have to end up by me.  I had envisioned a young mom who I could encourage since I had walked that path or maybe an older lady that I could listen to her stories about life.  Neither of those types were meant for me this day. 

A disheveled man with a shuffle to his step headed my way making eye contact with me.  When he sat down, he said  "I am homeless, do you have any change you could spare so I could buy a meal, ma'am?"  My first response is what we all think when ask to give away money.  "How do I know, sir, that you wouldn't use the money to buy drink or drugs?"

He, of course, had the usual responses.  I spent the next few minutes asking him about his homeless state, listening to his story, a man whose mother had died last year, he had many siblings and was the youngest in his family, turning 40 this year.  His mother a baptist woman who took him to church occasionally.  I decided that my calling this day wasn't to judge his state or determine his destiny, but just to listen and respond however I could.  "What's your name?" I asked the man.   "Warren", my name is "Warren."  My homeless man was a person, with a name and a story.

I told Warren that I had a box in my car that I carried around just for homeless people like himself.  The box had items that men might find useful, a razor, socks, toothbrush and toothpaste.  The box had been a project by our church near two years ago.  We were encourage to put together a "homeless box" just in case we came across a homeless person who had some needs.  This box had been in my car for nearly two years.  I had another homeless box that was given away and actually I had tried to give away this box once to a man who my daughter thought was a homeless person (that's a story for another day!).    Warren stared at me in disbelief.  "You carry a box in your car?" "Can I see it?"

"Sit right there, Warren, while I get my box out."  I quickly ran and got the box out of the car, thinking that Warren may run away after encountering a woman who wasn't content with just handing over $5.  Before handing him the box, I said to Warren, "I don't know what you think about God or if you even believe in a God, but I need you to know that today I prayed that God would show me someone to take care of and I really believe that you and I meeting today is no accident.  I want you to know most importantly that you matter to God and that He loves you." I gave Warren his box and also a couple of dollars.  He opened the box and touched each item. 

He then got up without any response and held his box next to his chest.  I watched him head down South Blvd, shuffling along, holding tightly to his box.    Warren, a man like you and me, with hopes and dreams who had lost his way.  I wept as I watched him walk away.