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I noticed him squatting by the entryway of the library.
I noticed his filthy clothes and his dirt-crusted skin.
I noticed the smell that tells me he hasn’t seen the wet side of a bar of soap in a very long time.
I noticed him noticing us…my children with their school uniforms and
shiny smiles…the brightness of their youth and the warmth of their
vitality.
I noticed his arm reach up as we drew closer.
I wondered if he would ask, if his hand would reach out.
I didn’t know what my answer would be.
Would I dig in my pocket?
Would I pretend I don’t see?
What message will my kids hear in my actions?
His arm reached further up.
His hand pushed the handicapped button and opened the door for us to enter.
He asked for nothing.
I mumbled a thank you, he nodded in return.
As I passed him, I looked down and noticed a cord stretching from his body.
Extending to a power outlet.
Charging his cell phone.
A cell phone?
He has a cell phone?
Who does he call?
Who waits to hear from him?
I wonder if he tells them about the people who look at him without making eye contact.
The ones like me.
--www.hope4peyton.org
