Rs 10

Tuesday, June 3, 08
Walking toward the waterfront, it's that time of day again, 6:30 PM, the light is thinning. At the park a conveniently wide two lane street, the sidewalks are not for pedestrians, guides me along the west side. As I approach the SW corner, the street splits, one running ahead to make a square intersection and the other cutting along the park since it is rounded here, I see a woman in her twenties, 2 young children looking on, attempting to keep a camp stove lit. As I slowly pass, the 4 year old girl, with little clothing, stoops watching eagerly her mother's effort. Behind her mother stands little brother, dressed in nature's finest. The mother pumps air into the gas bottle intently working to push the last vapors out the stove. A man from around the corner, these are street, or more correctly, sidewalk dwellers, says something and disappears back to his mat and family. On the cement sits a pot filled with a few vegetables and lots of water - dinner. As I cross the street in front of her, she works the empty bottle as the flame lessens, flickers and dies. Even now, she continues. The little boy stands unconcerned, too young to know. The little girl continues her stooped gaze. Across the street, I stand in the sinking light as the mother's efforts remain known. Reaching into my pocket, I search out Rs 10 and returning across the street, leaning, with my holy hand, extend my offering. As she recognizes what is happening, she takes it, holy to holy, and smiles a "Thank You, Mista" as I point to the empty bottle. Walking the angled street, cut for the rounded park, I want to look back, but don't. Why this time? What touched me, poked me, to respond? Many, everyday, ask for a hand out, and I don't. But this time... Was it the children with dinner waiting uncooked? A mother doing her best, which isn't enough.
We are programmed to return a greeting. Here, it often is to look into palms extended. My usual response to myself is, "Get over it!" Not this time! There is no getting over it. This will not balance the score. But, it balanced something within me!
I searched for my soul
But, my soul I could not see.
I searched for my God
But, my God eluded me.
I searched for my brother
And found all three (Anonymous)