The burrito beggar

Today I met a beggar.

He wasn't a beggar, he said. He wasn't asking for money. He was just hungry, and asked if I could help him buy some food. That's equalent to asking for money, I thought. Actually it is asking for a lot more than a spare of change.

I wanted to walk away. I felt uncomfortable. Maybe this was some kind of trick, I don't know ... people do a lot of strange things and you never know who could be dangerous. But I had stopped, and I was looking straight at him.

He was probably around my age. From Porto Rico, he told me later, but his English was very good. He said he had three children, no job and had just come out of the hospital. "Life is tough," he said.

I believed him. There was something about the desperation and sadness in his eyes. Something sincere. I knew I couldn't walk away from this. I was trapped. "OK, let's go get some food, " I said.

His footsteps seemed a little lighter than before as he walked across the road towards a Mexican restaurant. "I only need a little burrito," he said, "or maybe two ..? "

He started chatting, presenting himself. "Where's your accent from?" he asked me and I said "Norway," not expecting him to know where in the world that is. But he smiled and said "oh, really!" and seemed to have a pretty clear idea.

We ordered two burritos for him, "no onions and no chillies!" he demanded, and I ordered one for myself. While waiting for the food he told me about his hospital stay and that he was glad to be out. He was in for Asthma, he said. And his youngest son had it too. Now he was waiting for a massive bill to arrive which he never in this world would be able to pay. "What about Medicare?" I asked carefully. His face looked slightly tormented and he said "Man, they keep cutting back on that - it is so hard to qualify for it these days, you have no idea ..." he looked to the ground and added "I'm gonna try to apply for it now, though."

"You don't think you could help me with a bus pass as well ....?" he asked hesitantly after a while.
"It's five dollars, I need to get around to try to get a job ..."
I perceived the request as a bit pushy and replied "Sorry I don't have any cash, you're going to have to ask someone else for that."
"Oh ok, no problem" he said.

"Where are you going ...?" I asked him, feeling a bit guilty for not having 5 dollars to give him after all. He said he wanted to go to the Work Office on University Drive.
"Too far to walk for me" he said. "With my asthma ..."
Too far to walk for anyone, I thought.
"I'll give you a lift," I heard myself saying, and at the same time thinking: "What am I doing, that's insane ..."
He looked at me, surprised. "Oh ... ok ... yeah. Thanks."

The food was ready and came out in two big bags. We walked out the door and he said "you know I really should just get that bus pass, I got to go by my house first, then to the work office. I know there is an ATM right over there ..."

"I'm not walking up to an ATM to retrieve money for him," I thought. I asked him what his kids were going to eat today, trying to change the subject.  He said "this!" and held up his burrito bag. "That's why I need to drop by my house first."

I wasn't hungry anymore. "Would you like my burrito as well ...? It has onions and chillis, though ..." He gladly accepted. "Doesn't matter" he mumbled. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

I gave him a lift home with all the food. Yes, I know that is on the top of the list of things NOT to do  with complete strangers like this one, but I did. At that moment it just felt like the natural thing to do.

He kept chatting in the car, making small-talk, telling me about his brother who was such a terrible driver, about his daughter who loved writing stories.
"You're very kind." he said eventually.  "Are you one of those Newborn?"
"No" I said promptly.
"You know what it is, though?" he asked.
"Yes, I know what it is. And no, I just happen to trust you," I replied. "If I'm wrong about that, well, that would be really sad."
"I swear to you I'm not lying!" He cried. "Thank you."

" You can stop right here'" he said, pointing at a garage by the road. "I live just behind there."
He thanked me again, grabbed his food bags and got out of the car. "You're so very kind," he said again, and offered half heartedly to pay me back in the future.
"Hope things work out for you," I said to him.
"They will," he replied and shut the door.

Maybe I was cheated. Maybe his gang was ready to jump me and steal the car as I pulled over to drop him off, and I just happened to be lucky today. 

Or maybe his story was true. Maybe three kids were happy to get a decent meal today. Maybe one good experience today could be a spark for him to make some right moves for a better future.

I will never know.

But I do know that my moment of blue eyed goodwill made me feel inspired the rest of the day. I do know that pushing prejudices aside and try seeing the person instead of the beggar can transform fear into a feeling of unity. I felt humble about life and enthusiastic about the power of being human.

It made me think that behind every destiny there is an interesting story. I was drawn to this story and blurred by the impressions of the moment. Probably not advisable to follow a similar quest this far again. But good stories do not emerge from only walking on the safe side.

Neither will the world become a better place.