By James A. Martin
Last week, walking from the San Diego
convention center to my hotel, I passed a homeless woman. She was sitting on a
low-lying brick retaining wall, not far from Petco Park. I didn't think much
about her then--but she has been on my mind almost every day since.
That's because I was a jerk to her,
though she didn't know it.
I'd been attending an online marketing
conference. As a conference attendee, I was entitled to a free boxed lunch
every day. That afternoon, my intention was to get the food, take it back to my
hotel, and eat it poolside. It was a cloudless, warm afternoon, and I couldn't
wait to absorb the sun.
En route to my hotel, I saw the
homeless woman. She was in the same position I'd seen her in when I passed by
her that morning, except now she held a plastic bag up to one side of her face
to block the sun. Next to her was a small cart of assorted belongings. She took
no notice of me, and I gave her only a quick glance.
And yet, in that moment, my instinct
was to stop and offer her my boxed lunch. Instead, I second-guessed myself (an
expertise of mine). Giving homeless people food and money only encourages them
to stay on the streets, right? Since I give money to homeless organizations
every year, I shouldn't have to surrender my sandwich too, right? And how do I
know she hadn't eaten? How do I know she would trust food from a stranger?
In my hotel room, I opened the box and
suddenly had absolutely no interest in it. It was the same conference-quality
sandwich I'd eaten the previous two days. So I dropped the sandwich in the
trash and proceeded to the pool.
To my dismay, I discovered the hotel
wasn't offering food or beverage service at the pool, nor could you have room
service deliver lunch there. Instead, I had to go to my room, find the hotel
restaurant menu, call in my order, have the restaurant call my cell phone when
it was ready, then go down and pick it up.
How ridiculous and unaccommodating the
hotel was being, I thought, irritated. And then it hit me: This wasn't just an
inconvenience. This was payback time, a life lesson. I was having to work for
the food I wanted, and rightly so, because I hadn't even bothered to offer the
food I didn't want to someone who probably could have used it. Instead, I had
callously discarded it.
I'm not proud of this, by the way.
However, I'm glad I realized what I'd done, and I decided to start making
amends right away. Before checking out of my room, I left a large tip and a
thank-you note for the maid. I realize this wasn't the same as offering food to
a homeless person. But it was a start. And it's my hope that in the future, I
won't second-guess any act of compassion.
More on the Internet: James authors a wonderful blog: A Southerner in San Francisco - Eating Fried
Chicken in the Fog and Other Tales at: http://james-a-martin.blogspot.com
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