There’s a small black man who sits on the side of the road every morning when I walk to work from my parking spot. He has the usual appearances of being homeless (backpack, sleeping bag, etc) but something is different about him.
I work about one block away from a homeless shelter. Outside of the shelter, there are probably upwards of 100-200 people that camp around the building. As you go a block in each direction, the amount of homeless people decreases but is still more than most other places in the city.
There is something about most of these people that tells you they are homeless — even apart from what they wear or how they smell. it’s a way that they carry themselves. Some have physical or mental disabilities and therefore have very odd walking patterns. Some are so addicted to drugs that they flinch constantly or will randomly yell.
Most of all, they have a look of disappointment. Whether in themselves or in the people walking by not paying attention, there is disappointment in their eyes. There seems to be no hope or happiness.
Maybe it’s the heat of the day, maybe it’s drugs they’re on, maybe it’s a look at the truth, but they all look exhausted and ready to give up.
Not all of them ask for something. Out of the ones that do, there are some that are more creative than others. One guy will follow you as you walk down the street and tell you a story about why something works the way it does or where the origin of an expression came from and then will ask if you could help him out so that he can continue learning more. Some sit on the corner of the street and have a sign that flat out says “Not gonna lie I just want some beer.”
Everyone has a different strategy to get money from people passing by.
Perhaps with some good training, these people could become some of the best salespeople on the planet. They are used to constant rejection and quite literally live off the moto, every no is one closer to a yes.
The small man on the side of the road, however, is different. The first time I noticed him was last week. I passed by, he looked up, gave me a big smile, then looked back down at a book he was reading. After looking a little closer, I realized what he was reading — a Bible. I make out the words 1 Corinthians on the page he’s reading.
Excited to see someone reading a book I’m familiar with, I go up and ask him what he’s reading.
He doesn’t talk much. Just a couple of words, but he continues to have a smile on his face. It’s an interesting smile. It’s not one that looks like it’s exploding out of his face, but instead, it looks like a peaceful smile. A content smile.
We talk for a bit, we exchange names. Enus is his name. I tell him that I’ll see him around.
The next day comes and I realize that he’s in the same place as the day before. I say hello again, we have a brief conversation, then I head the last block to the entrance to my work.
Over the next week, I see him every single morning. I say hello, we exchange pleasantries, and I move onto work and he continues reading.
On Monday, I realize how cool he seemed to be and wanted to take him out to eat at a nice restaurant. I asked him if he would be interested in going out and he says yes. I ask him about two nights from Monday at 5:00 pm. He agrees and says “that sounds good. See you then. Thank you.”
I pass by him the next two mornings (today being the second) and confirm that we are still on for dinner. He says yes. I tell him I’m looking forward to it, and I walk into work.
What I don’t realize
Is that I may never see Enus again