McDonald's Man

He is bearded and thin with black skin and droopy eyes. I think he’s homeless.

He has been sitting in the rear of a Union Square McDonald’s for over an hour. That’s only because I’ve been here for over an hour. I’m sure he’s been here much longer. It’s 9 degrees outdside.

A Persian-looking woman walked into the restaurant five minutes ago and said hello to the man, then made eye contact with me and said, “Thank you.” I did not understand.

She left the restaurant just a minute ago. Before leaving, she stopped by the homeless man’s table and dropped off a cup of soup for him and what looked like a large bill. His reactions seem a bit lethargic - he took in the gift, widened his face, then turned towards the departing woman. He slurred out a hearty “God bless you, maam. God bless you.” She turned an smiled before re-entering the icy weather.

I’ve been sitting here, feeling miserable and alone and ineffective and fat, but that little touch of humanity got me to start writing. Charity is infectious. Like art. It reminds us of the hope that lies beyond the reality of the moment.

The man’s face looks enlivened. He’s slurping and chewing the soup with relish. Now each person that passes him on their way out the door is receiving a “God bless you.” He’s not asking for change or charity. He’s only giving his blessing.