6.24.2010

#11 Feed the Homeless, Complete.


Piggy banks are meant for kids right? I am currently twenty-one years young and I proudly own one. However, it is shaped like a soccer ball, not like a big, round, baby pink pig. For the past several years I have been placing any spare change I have into it, merely as a place to get coins out of the way. I did not think there would come a day where it might make someone’s day, in turn, enriching mine.
Today, thursday June 10, started like any other regular summer day. Not having to work untill 11 p.m., I was able to spend time with a new, incredible friend, Peter. My stokage level was refreshed and climbing. As we were trying to figure out what to do for the day, he choose the random number of 11. Looking it up on my list I saw “Feed the Homeless”. That is when the epiphany came, my piggy bank.
The amount of money on the screen of the change-counter at Harmon was shocking. $83.45. I was in awe that I had collected over eighty dollars worth of change over the years, only hoping for twenty-fine, if that. The choice was before me, would I really give all that money to the homeless? Would you?
Walking to the crossroads at Gateway Mall in SLC, UT, where I knew there would be several homeless people, I pulled out my wallet. Inside was a $50, a $20, and a $10. Looking up I saw two guys on opposite corners with “help” signs. Flipping a coin, we chose to give one a $50, and the other the $20.
While approaching the one to my right, I took in his appearance. Younger, tan, rugged and worn clothes, yet full of life. He was strumming an unrecognizable tune on the guitar, with a bag next to him littered with coins and a few one dollar bills. I held out the fifty dollar bill, “You may want to hold onto this one”. After taking the bill in his hands and turning it over in his fingers as if making sure it was real, a smile lit up his face and reached his crystal blue eyes. Thanking me several times, he then told me that I was the first person to ever give him a fifty dollar bill. The things he said in response to my act, made every penny worth it. His radiating smile was infectious. We introduced ourselves, then Peter took a picture of Ronny and I together.
The other gentleman was a Veteran in a wheelchair. He was shy on approach and after placing the twenty dollar bill in his weathered, experienced hands, he thanked me. Though he was not as actively enthused as Ronny, I could feel the gratitude from the look in his eyes.
Most people in our day walk right past those people with dirty clothes and signs on our streets. Some judge them, scoff at them. Why? They are people with feelings just like anyone else. You do not know there story, but I dare you to find out. Thank you Ronny and the Veteran for being there that day, thank you for effecting my life.

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