Today is Saturday, named after Saturn, or (Saturn’s Day). May this day bring happiness and virtue to you the way it is intended to based upon it’s unique energy. Since today is technically not a work day, I decided not to post the next installment of Aging Rockers (50-75) until Monday. It’s about Sir Paul, so you don’t want to miss it. While you are reading my blog, feel free to comment. Blogging works better that way!

I want to share a story about a man, down on his luck, with tattered clothes, and a jacket that wouldn’t close because the zipper is broken, yet I learned from him, he not he from me.

It began when I was parking my car in front of a local store in the Bronx which I frequent. I noticed him standing on the corner near a city owned garbage can. He was looking for food. It looked to me like he was talking to himself. I had a bill in my hand which I needed to mail and in order to get to the mailbox, our lives had to intersect. The closer I came, the more audible his low tone rants became until I was able to determine that this wasn’t idle murmuring, he was praying!

I mailed my letter across the street from where he was standing, and overheard someone screaming at him words that I don’t care to share with you. Nevertheless, he remained calm, never breaking eye contact with this verbal abuser. By now, he had moved directly in front of the entrance to the grocery store. As I approached the door, he look at me and said, “Christ loves. I love you. Give me fifty cents please???” I tried so hard not to choke on my words as they came out of my mouth. I held back my tears. All I could do was nod in approval and say ” yeah man, I know “. I never expected to hear those words at that particular time in my life.

When I came out of the store he was gone. Gone within the 7 minutes it took me to get what I needed. As I got in my car I saw him across the street standing right in front of the mailbox. I felt compelled. I felt shame. I felt helpless that he was he and I was me, and if not for the grace of God that could be you or I. He was pacing back and forth now as a police car rolled up on the scene. I noticed they were looking at him, but not doing anything. I walked over with a paper bag in my hand and offered it to him. He gave me his undivided attention. His words were clear. His tone was angelic. His mind transcended his earthy agony as he prayed for me! Not I for him? How? Why? He asked God to bless me, not him, because he couldn’t give me anything good in return. This was the only thing in his life that had value to him. His prayerful relationship with God.

Opening the paper bag, he pulled out a big sandwich which I bought for him when I bought my smaller sandwich. I handed him twenty dollars. He looked at me and said, ” I lost my family. I know not love. I put my faith in the God above, and hopefully He’ll take me from this crowded world”.

He ate half the sandwich right in front of me as I listened in amazement to the story he began telling me. Firstly, I couldn’t believe how well and soft spoken he was until I learned that he graduated from college. His mind was confused though. I could tell he needed someone to listen. My entire interaction with him took place in under ten minutes. Not very long in the cosmic scale of things. It didn’t delay me, or distract me from my tasks at hand. Instead it energized me to examine me. I determined that I, like you are so blessed compared to some other souls on this planet. I came away from my encounter with the “fifty cents man” a better person, not he. Life is funny sometimes.

When I got home I composed my song entitled: Give Me Fifty Cents to honor this man. This intelligent man. Down on his luck man who could be you or I.

His parting words to me after indicating that he was ashamed to take the food from me because he had nothing of value to give me in return… except to include me in his prays. “I feel real bad man because I can’t give you anything good in return. All I have left is just this one little thing that never seems to run out, because I fill it up with His merciful love.” He was clutching a picture of his wife and his kid who he lost in a car accident five years earlier.