Without

While walking last Saturday morning, enjoying the little things—birds singing, the sun shining, the faint smell of fresh coffee—I spotted a homeless man sitting on the curb. He looked a bit weathered but had a smile that could light up a room. I reached into my pocket and fished out some loose change and several one-dollar bills, giving it to him.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice rich with gratitude.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I asked, “How did you get to this point?”

He looked up at me, his eyes twinkling, and said, “Showing love.”

I was intrigued. “What do you mean?”

He took a moment as if pulling together the threads of his life. “I went through my whole life making sure everyone else was okay. No matter what was going right or wrong for me, I did for others. I never wanted to see anyone go without.”

I nodded, absorbing his words, before asking, “Do you regret it?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “But it hurt me to my soul that the very people I gave the shirt off my back to wouldn’t give me a sleeve off that same shirt when I was in need.”

His honesty struck me like a bell tolling.

Then he added something that lingered in the air like the last note of a beautiful song. “It’s better to build your own house and invite someone in for shelter than to hand them your bricks while you’re still building yours. Because if you keep giving away the bricks from the house you’re supposed to be building for yourself, one day you’ll turn around and find that the spot you planned for your house is just an empty lot. And then you’ll be the one looking for bricks.”

His words hung there between us, a gentle reminder wrapped in wisdom. I thanked him for his perspective, and as I walked away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just received a precious gift.