A Visit Last Night

I've got a friend who's been living on the street for a some time now. He needs a lot of help, and he asks me for favors pretty often. If I were a genuinely saintly person I'm sure I'd do as he asked without a twinge, but as it is I sometimes find his requests annoying or inconvenient. When I have those feelings, they are of course invariably accompanied by feelings of guilt. You know, thoughts like "How can I complain, even inwardly, at the chance to help someone in need?" Especially considering that he's always gracious when I turn him down, and he always pays back the money he borrows.

About a year ago he got arrested. He says a couple of store employees were harassing him, he defended himself, they called the cops and the cops found mace on him, which was a big no-no since he was on probation. He asked me to pick up the stuff he had on him when he was arrested before the city destroyed it, so I did that.


A couple of months ago I got a call from a medical social worker saying my friend had been beaten pretty severely in prison at Chino, including a metal bar to the head, and was recovering in the hospital. And why did I get the call? Because he'd used me as a reference upon his arrest. No idea where his family is.

So last night he suddenly showed up at my door. He looked a little like this:


I'm serious, man; his right eye had been pushed halfway down his cheek, and he also had an enormous gash above it. I think a piece of his skull had to be removed.

He had a cab driver with him who wanted to get paid, so I gave the guy some money expecting that he'd take my friend and his bags wherever he wanted to go, but the jerk just drove off. So while we were getting his stuff together, and he threw me a couple of looks that plainly said "Can I stay with you?" and talked to Little Miss (who has done counseling with prisoners and the homeless and has a heart for the disregarded that just about moves me to tears), I got myself to an ATM and got some more cash. Then Little Miss called another cab and off he went to his old haunts. First, though, he turned to Little Miss, pointed at me and said "He's a great guy."


I'm in a complete swirl. I spent $80 on him that I can't afford very easily and that, in his current state, I doubt he can pay back, and he kept me up till all hours getting him on his way so that today I'm wandering around half-asleep, but then he compliments me very nicely, accepts what I can give him and doesn't ask for anything more. I'm irritated, flattered and worried sick, and I don't know if I want to see or hear from him again or not. And while all of this is going through my head, I also have to say to myself "Hey, man, where do you get off feeling sorry for yourself when this guy's got no money, no shelter and a piece of his head missing?"

Benshlomo says, The Good Lord moves in strange and wonderous ways, you'd better believe it.