What’s Your Name?

I had waked by handbags, shoes and dresses with labels such as Ralph Lauren, Jimmy Cho, Prada, Tory Burch, and Burberry to sit in this comfortable chair, waiting for Judy as she shopped in Banana Republic. The mall is not crowded, the noise is muted and my mind is wondering elsewhere. Then, a young black man is standing before me asking if I can help him with something to eat? “Do you have any change?” He has a terry cloth rag on his head as if avoiding the sun. “What did you say?” My thoughts returning to the present. Again he asked for change. “I don’t have any change.” Quickly he moves on to someone else and then to someone else and someone else, leaving me to wonder….

Had I again failed to help someone in need? What drives a man to enter a place so different from himself to ask for mere change. Is he really hungry? What is his name? Within seconds he is out of sight and Security follows, A man jumps to point in the direction the young man had taken.

More often than not when I have offered food instead of money, the man asking for help turns and leaves. Only a few times has an offer of a meal been accepted. Fewer times I have given the few dollars in my pocket because it was the easier thing to do. More times I have simply turned by head and walked pass.

I am aware that most of the men and women, this young man encountered as I watched him walk away are just a lost job, a serious illness, or the death of a spouse from being as homeless, lost or hungry as he presented himself to me. What would I do if I were in this man’s place? What social barriers would I fling aside to feed myself or my family. It causes me to again ask why do I fail so often to respond to the needs that appear right in front of me. I didn’t even ask his name and now I’ll never know.

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