The Widow's Mite

One characteristic of where we live, a peninsula that is an almost island, that is half Navy base and half tourist destination, is that very few poor homeless people wander the street. Although this region as a whole has one of the highest rates of homelessness - I think it is 5th in the nation overall, and 3rd for the number of homeless veterans - this particular area has no shelters, no food pantries, no tent cities, and no beggars on the corners.  The powers that be must have the time to make sure vagrants aren't loitering or begging.

But sometimes even in the land of beautiful people, there are people who don't quite belong.

A couple days ago, a man walked into morning Mass looking a little unkempt, uncertain, and unfamiliar with the Mass. He had a stuffed duffle bag, a worn backpack, and a pungent odor. At the holy water font, he made an attempt at crossing himself that resembled what the toddler does, sort of a tap, tap tap around her chest with a drippy finger. Then he sat down to listen.  I tried not to notice him.  I thought about my bike sitting unlocked in the courtyard, and guiltily remembered how my grandma used to surreptitiously lock the doors of her Buick when we drove through low income neighborhoods.

Then just after the homily, a sermon about being ready for the last days, another woman, also noticeably not impeccably dressed or freshly showered, reached over across the aisle and handed this guy five bucks.

Convicted.

This woman was bold in her gesture of generosity, but not loud. Handing the guy money during Mass had not even crossed my mind.  But I know that even if I had thought of it, I wouldn't have had the courage. Perhaps he wasn't homeless. Perhaps giving him money would encourage him to start panhandling around the church and school grounds.  Perhaps he would scorn my small gift. Perhaps he would just buy beer with it. Perhaps I might need my small amount of cash later in the day.

Who knows. Does it matter? This woman probably needed the five bucks just as much as the guy she gave it to.  But she ministered to more than just that man. Everyone who saw her pass him the five felt the same way as I did, I surmise:  I am not worthy to receive You.