My Hometown

My Hometown

A Lesson Learned

In the day and age that we live in, we are in a constant rush to get wherever we are going and it is a very rare occasion that we ever have cash in our pockets.

But it is inevitable that along the way we will meet someone that needs our help; in my case, I walk past several homeless people asking for change on the way to the high rise where I work downtown.

How often do I stop and throw some change into their cups? I’m ashamed to admit it, but not nearly as much as I should and this wasn’t the way I was raised.

Every town has that one person that everyone else wonders about.

Maybe it’s someone that is a little different from our version of normal or maybe just someone that is down on their luck.

We had a guy like this in my hometown.

He would paint posts that weren’t actually there, nor did he ever have a paint can or an actual brush in his hand.

I remember walking through the square one day with my dad and we overheard some people talking about him, while others laughed as he stood there painting away at the imaginary.

My dad was very upset and pulled me into Jack’s hardware.

He never said a word, but purchased a paintbrush.

He walked right over to where the guy was standing alone in the square, motioning his arm up and down as if he were painting a post, and he stood alongside of him with his new brush in hand helping him paint.

I was certainly embarrassed to be standing there with my dad as several people watched the scene unfolding.

He would explain a lesson to me later that night, one that I still need to be reminded of from time to time in my daily rush:

“When someone needs our help, it’s up to us to help them whenever we can!”

 

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