It was a chilly winter night in December of 1991 and time for our
annual trip to Christmas in the Park. This year we had our first, new baby
girl, to share the sights and sounds with and were looking forward to sharing
it with her. I had worked retail for many years, so to me the holidays did not
mean much except extra work… put the decorations up for this holiday, take them
down and redecorate for the next. In addition, anyone who has worked retail can
tell you about not only the hustle and bustle with customers and stocking
shelves (in my case setting up our floral department and keeping it fresh), but
about the extra-long hours that come with the job or late hours. For this
reason, I dreaded them and they seemed like any other day.
This particular year though, somehow things would be changing about
my view of Christmas and little did I know that our traditional visit to
Christmas in the Park would turn out to be a reminder of what the season truly
means.
After bundling everyone up and packing the diaper bag and stroller
in the car, I made sure the camera was full to take lots of pictures to
remember our daughter's first Christmas. The Bay Area is notorious for traffic
in the evenings, but this night it was fairly light and before we knew it we
were in the streets of downtown San Jose. We had opted to park in the Local 428
lot, which was next to the Union office and one of the fancy hotels downtown.
It was a wonderful night with my daughter getting her picture taken
on Santa's lap, eating warm Churros and strolling through the walkways filled
with animated scenes. I was very much there, but as the evening winded down, my
mind was beginning to wander about work the next day. We listened to the music,
the children laughing and watched our own daughter's eyes light up every time
she saw the lights on a tree or watched one of the musical moving scenes.
We came to the Nativity scene, which I always take a few extra
minutes to enjoy and say a little prayer in my head giving thanks for the miracle
of the season, and we all just stood there for a while. No sooner did we leave;
it was the end of our tour and time to get back in the car and head home. To
avoid the normal traffic of getting on the freeway, I drove through the streets
between 7th and 11th. There are really beautiful old homes out there in some of
the area, so we might have even got to see some house lights.
As I turned onto a street near a college bookstore, I saw a
homeless man walking on the street. I do not know what happened in those
moments, because all I remember was thinking I had an extra blanket I always
carried in the car and it was extremely cold outside. Suddenly I pulled my 89
Ford Escort over to the side of the street and my husband at the time had
asked, "What are you doing?"
It had to be evident I was pulling the car over so I replied,
"Pulling the car over. I have a blanket in the back."
He looked at me as if I was crazy and was really getting out of the
car to take the homeless man a blanket? Yes, I was and I got out, opened the
hatchback and I pulled out my "extra", not being used, clean blanket
and slowly walked toward the homeless man. As I cautiously approached him, he
just kept pushing his shopping cart filled with what few belongings he had.
"Excuse me... hello", I called out to him. He kept
walking and I followed and tried to call him again. "Excuse me, Mister,"
I called out and he finally turned around.
For some reason I was no longer nervous and I remember looking into
to his eyes when he said, "You talking to me?" He was unkempt and his
skin looked leathered, as if he had been in the sun all of his life. As I took
a few steps closer, I saw his basket filled with a piece of cardboard, some
clothes with holes and few dirty blankets. Nonetheless, I just had a gut
feeling he was supposed to get this blanket tonight and I was the one who was
going to give it to him.
I put the blanket across both my arms and reached it out to him.
"Here this is for you," I said.
"But I already have some blankets," he said.
"This is a clean blanket, it is for you, and I want you to
have it."
"For me?" he asked.
"For you, for Christmas," blurted out of my mouth and I
warmly smiled.
"You're giving this to me for Christmas?" he asked.
"Yes, this is for you," I replied and reached it out even
further.
When he took the blanket from my hands, I felt the touch of his
hands on mine and he looked up and said kindly, "Thank you." Again I
looked at him with a smile and I said Merry Christmas. He replied, "Merry
Christmas and God bless you."
As I got ready to turn away, I answered back, "God bless you
too."
Then, I began walking back to my car and I climbed in. Just before
we were ready to go I had looked back at him through my rear view mirror. In
the reflection, I saw the homeless man, standing there alone, in the cold, on
the street and he was holding the blanket I had just given him across his arms,
just as I had presented it to him, up to the sky. He was praying, and I looked
out the window, back at him, seeing a sky filled with stars, and watched him
give thanks to the Lord. I got a tear in my eye and suddenly, the true spirit
of Christmas filled my heart and soul. "This is what Christmas is truly
about," I said silently to myself as I gently cried.
That
very evening, that very moment, I had yearned for all my life, when I would
feel the true spirit of Christmas had just touched me and overflowed into my
soul. In giving that night, I received the greatest gift and those memories
still live on in my heart today. The homeless man had nothing but what he
carried in his cart, but he had God and was truly richer than anyone on the
outside looking in could see. That night, the homeless man touched my heart and
my life in a special way. Every Christmas season, I think of him and that
beautiful experience that was a turning point in my life. I still get a tear in
my eye every time I remember that night and what I learned from the homeless I
gave that blanket to that night.
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