Last night, after a long work day, I stopped to pick up a milkshake for my son who is sick. Through the window of the drive through, I saw something that stopped me cold.
A man sitting at a table on the other side of the restaurant was rubbing his hands. Repeatedly, fervently, agitated and uncontrollable. His appearance was unkempt, and he seemed uncertain of who or where he was. In those few brief seconds of vision, I could begin to see the difficulties that his life held.
My snap diagnosis was either mental illness, or some kind of cognitive deficit. In that moment, I felt an overwhelming sadness envelop me, as I pictured the life that this poor man has. For him, each day is a struggle. Not to achieve the shining heights of his ambitions, but to survive in a world that is confusing, difficult and often cruel.
As I pulled away from the drive through window, I suppressed the urge to cry for this poor man. I asked my wife, who had seen my sadness, “how do we make it right, how do we balance this”? The scope of the problem seemed overwhelming.
But in the moment that I asked her, I realized a powerful truth. That too often, I have done nothing because it seemed that anything would not be enough, and that fate itself would laugh at my small effort.
And so I rebelled. I rebelled against the despair that tried to hold me down. I rebelled against my ego that wanted to protect me from feeling uncomfortable. I rebelled against the voice in my head that told me I was trying to hold back the tide with my bare hands. In that moment, I rebelled against suffering, pain, sadness and hopelessness.
And I did something. I asked her for the $10 bill that we had just received in change. She gave it to me, and added the free sandwich gift card that we had also been given. I pulled out of the drive through, and back towards the front of the restaurant.
As I saw him again through the window, my original diagnosis seemed to hold up.
I stopped the car, and with a deep breath entered the door and walked over to him.
In a brief dialogue, I told him that I wanted to give him the $10 and the gift card. I told him that he was my “good deed” for the day. He stared at me, unsure as to why this stranger was giving him money in the midst of a fast food restaurant.
Truth is, I’m still not sure why I did it either.
But something in me, some part of my soul, connected with him in a way that I cannot express.
I realize that what I did will not change his life. I’m not sure what would. I was probably trying to hold back the tide.
But for one moment, in one brief intersection of two human beings, I acted in defiance of all that seeks to debase our existence. I can’t change too much of the world right now, but I can make small changes to help someone else have a day that is a little brighter, a night a little warmer, and a life just a little bit happier.
I don’t tell you this for my gain. I tell you this to ask for your help. Today, please find someone, anyone, who is suffering, and try to make their lives just that little better.
The universe can be cruel, hurtful, deceitful and unkind. My mission is to try, in whatever way I can, to alter that.
And I need your help.
-- Dr. Alan Barnes
