Thanks

 

Portland, Oregon. Late January. I was broke—being a cook, even in a foodie city, is hard in the middle of the winter. I was walking home from Fred Meyers on Hawthorne when a street person asked me for change.  He was clearly sleeping outside, colder than I was, without the knowledge that a paycheck was coming in three days. I pulled out my change purse and dumped it into his hand.

                “That’s all I’ve got,” I said. It wasn’t much.

                He nodded. “Are you ok?” he asked.

                “Yeah, I’ll get paid soon,” I told him.

                He dug through the pile and handed me a penny. “Always keep a penny,” he said, “for seed money.” We smiled, I thanked him, and we went on our separate ways.

 

                I’ve been thinking about this encounter—and the many others I’ve had on the streets a lot lately. We’re coming up to Thanksgiving in a very rough year, but it rougher for some than others. We are thankful for a home, after the ashes of others fell in our yard. We are thankful that our friends and family are still safe and well, when so many others are not. We are thankful that we have food in the larder, grown by people we know, in soil we all love. We have enough.

 

                If you find yourselves in the same position, there are many organizations looking for help.