A follow-up visit with a homeless man

I arrived in San José, Calif., almost two years to the day after I met a homeless man named Ken who changed my life. (See “My Encounter with Ken,” Nov. 20, 2007, issue.) I drove an extra three hours to see if I might find Ken in his usual spot across from the convention center. I wondered: Would he still be alive? Would he be in prison? Or would he be in recovery from his demon, alcohol?

Respect: Ken in San José, Calif.

We drove past his usual spots. Dennis, my husband, and I parked the car and walked toward the park. I had a photo of Ken from two years earlier and asked men in the park who appeared to be homeless if they knew Ken. “Oh, yes,” they said. “He and Jimmie James hang out around the corner, across from the convention center.”

As I approached the corner, I found Ken, just as I did two years earlier. I walked up to him with a big smile on my face. His memory had faded until I introduced myself. Then he recalled our previous encounter. With him was a man named Paul, who seemed intrigued with my reunion with Ken and joined in the conversation.

Paul was a new Christian, claiming recovery but still stuck in alcoholism. I asked about Jimmie James, and Paul volunteered to go get him. I asked Ken about Sadie, the cat lady I saw bringing sandwiches to him two years before. He said Sadie had died. Just then, around the corner came Jimmie James. He said, “Hey, you’re that lady from the Mennonites group. Are you here from another convention?”

I asked the three of them if they would like to join Dennis and me for lunch. Jimmie James and Ken had been busy collecting bottles for an income from the convention center and said a dumpster dive was scheduled for 2:30. I did not want to take them away from their work, so I accommodated their schedule. We went to Peggy Sue’s, the local ‘50s diner. Ken ordered his usual, an order of fries. The others enjoyed a sandwich.

With Dennis by my side, I could focus comfortably in their company and not worry about being vulnerable as a woman. It was wonderful to reach out to them again in this way.

Earlier, while in Chicago, I had another encounter with a homeless man. The first time I encountered him, I felt intimidated by his size and gender and refused to make eye contact with him. Then I felt God’s gentle voice again, nudging me to acknowledge him. After I made eye contact with him, he asked me for money. I quickly said no and passed on, then backtracked a few steps and said, “Are you hungry?”

He said, “Yes, ma’am.”

I asked if we could go into the nearby store and find him something to eat. He picked up his backpack and marched behind me like an excited kid.

We continue to be in this dilemma of what to do when we encounter a homeless person. I try to follow God’s leading. I trust he will convict me when I should help someone.

What would Jesus do? Would he just give them money? Though it is much easier to just hand them a dollar bill and walk past, I instead take the time to go find food with and for them.

Two things happen when I do this. One, I don’t feel used when I wonder if my money is going to a chemical addiction. Two, I spend a moment of quality time with a person who may well be starved for respect from society. That’s what I believe Jesus would do.

Cindy Miller attends Clay Community Church, South Bend, Ind., and serves as executive office assistant for Mennonite Mission Network.