The beggar sat on the sidewalk on the cold winter day. He was bearded and gruff.

Though

stooped by the cares of life, a large man, his face as lined as an elephant’s hide. His eyes were

the ones that struck me the most, however. Dead and lifeless, empty and devoid of all hope. I

could not bear to look into his eyes and witness the disappointment and dejection that would

inevitably arise from the rebuff I was prepared to give him.

My son, work hard for a living because the world will not have mercy on you when you are down

and out. ***

However, I did not have to rebuff him. I had the option to acquiesce to his

implied request. He did not specifically ask me to give him money, but the sight

of his forlorn countenance and the fact of him being seated on the street

wearing rags on that icy sidewalk were request enough. The memory of the

warm house full of food, love, and comfortable blankets that awaited me at

home suddenly ashamed me. What right did I have to be so privileged? Were my

choices so important? But then again, would it kill him if he got up and looked

for a job? I asked myself.

My son, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. ***

My parents were waiting for me at home. I was wearing a parka, with my pockets full of the

change I had after purchasing some fast food at the nearby McDonald’s. I remembered how I had

eaten a full meal that morning before I ventured into the world. I remembered how I would
consistently complain about my life, feeling like I was unlucky for all the reasons people

normally have. I would not normally even remember such things, but the pitiful sight before me

pulled at my heartstrings and gnawed at my conscience. As I stood there thinking, I was almost

startled by his raspy voice as he spoke to me.

My son, life is full of ups and downs ***

“You don’t have to help me, son,” he began. “I’ve been in your shoes, and I know where the

buck stops.” He was surprisingly cultured and well-spoken for a mere beggar. I immediately

chastised myself for thinking such a thing. Weren’t beggars human just as we were?

He once again broke into my thoughts, “I know you are pitying me, but it is my choices which

have landed me here, and my plight is not your fault.” Thinking myself mean, I quickly emptied

my pockets of all the change I had received from McDonald’s and offered it all to him.

My son,it takes a truly courageous man to look into himself and, looking, acknowledge his

darkest side and embrace it. ***

To my great surprise, the man refused my money. “No, no,” he said, “my problems run deeper

than that, and offering me some change, since it may make you feel less guilty about being in

a position better than mine, will not change anything.”

My son, they say that money is the root of all evil – but man*** created it
As I gaped at his temerity in refusing my help, he got up. He stood an impressive six feet tall,

towering over me in his ragged coat. He did not stagger, and his mien was graceful and even

bold. After all, the person I thought was a beggar had some spirit in him.

My son, you cannot break a man unless you have already broken his spirit. ***

I remembered how my dad would exhort me to dust myself and not cry after

falling down back when I was young. That spirit within. It was admirable and

awe-inspiring. With the right attitude, a beggar could have the aura of a king.

My son, never forget that even a cat may look at a king. ***

He sauntered off, giving me nary a second consideration. For the third time that day, I was again

stricken by guilt for condescending enough to offer this man my meager sum of money.

Finally, my son, remember that still waters run deep ***

Kings and lords are not made – they are born

The lordly mien cannot easily be faked

As in chess, a queen can never be a pawn

Because into a person’s heart, grandeur is baked

***