Three Dollar Bill and the Ballad of the Leaking Minivan...

When I left work last night, I began what has become something of a ritual: I drove to the corner market and stopped to check the coolant level in my radiator. Sometimes it's fine, sometimes not.

As I got out of the van, I saw a rather rumpled looking guy sitting on the walk. I popped the hood and went about my business. The guy approached me to see if he could help. I told him no, that I just had to check my water and as I topped off the radiator, he gave me his 'sob story'.

He had hitched a ride to Tennessee from Arkansas, looking for work. His ride left him and he didn't have any money, had no way to get back home and no way to call his family.

He looked like he hadn't slept in a couple of days and was close enough for me to know that he hadn't bathed in at least twice that long.

He said, "Can you help a fella out?"

I mumbled something about not having much on me as I reached into my pocket. I intended to give the guy a dollar but when I pulled my hand out of my pocket, I inadvertantly turned it inside out, revealing all my possessions: one overfilled keyring, a tube of Burt's Bees and three crumpled dollar bills.

What the heck, I gave him all three of my bills.

He seemed reluctant to take them as he said, "Don't that leave you with anything?"

It was all the cash I had, but I didn't need it for anything and I had a credit card in my wallett.

"It's alright," I said, take it. God bless you."

He said, "NO, man, God bless YOU, man."

He gave me a big crooked grin and nodded, bowed almost, reverentially. Then he turned and shuffled off into the shadows.

There was a time when I would have wondered what he was going to do with my three dollars or I might have just told him to get lost. There was a time when I would have worried that he would return to the market as soon as I left to buy a '40'.

Somehow, none of those things came to my mind. He seemed to have a certain sincerity about him and his concern for me - that I was was giving him 'all' my money touched me a little bit. His thankful attitude and willingness to call on God didn't hurt either.

I realize that he may very well have come back and bought that '40'. I hope not, but really, I don't care. I hope the three dollars helped him in some small way.

I hope he finds his way. I hope he can contact his family and I hope he gets back to Arkansas.

I don't think the world has been very good to this guy. I hope that he remembers that someone he didn't know cared enough to say "God bless you" when he could have said "Get lost".

It was nothing to me really. I mean, three dollars? What, one gallon of gas? But this left me with the strangest mixture of emotions as I drove home.

I got home and got out of the ugly van with the spewing radiator and I said a little silent prayer of thanks for my van and for my home.

And I said a little prayer for the guy from Arkansas.