what if it had been Jesus?

Earlier I decided to go through the remaining cardboard boxes in my house left over from the move nearly two years ago (don’t even say a word), so I bought some storage things and started rifling. Lots of photographs I’d forgotten about, lots of memories stirred up – the Sargasso detritus welling up from the still parts of my brain… I have a problem with segmenting my life, not connecting causes and effects, the past with the present – which as you may imagine causes problems. And repeated mistakes. But overall it was a great experience, going through all that stuff, especially the photos.

As I walked out of my front door to toss the empty boxes, a man was walking down the street and saw me. He asked me if he could have a glass of water. I shook my head no and went back inside, locked the deadbolt and the chain, too. Then I felt horrible. What if he really just wanted a glass of water? And I just refused him … because I was here alone and I didn’t want to get into a conversation and possibly panhandled… But I did the right thing, I was assured. And I probably did. But part of me wonders what if. And that part is tied to the fact that a homeless man was sleeping on the porch of the semi-abandoned house next door for most of the afternoon, and I basically ignored him. As most might say I should. But maybe he was thirsty too? I never know what to do in those situations. I feel easier about refusing the panhandlers at the intersections in town. They just piss me off. I’m trying to get to work and they stand in front of my car demanding money for their church group or basketball team… that is somehow easier to refuse. But a guy asking for a simple glass of water… I dunno.

Part of me thinks I should have just given him some water and let him be on his way. But it’s never that simple. There’s a conversation about hard times, usually, some rehearsed story about how he needs eight bucks for the YMCA or gas money to go see his kid… and the last time I opened my door to a man asking for water, he ended up passing out in the street in front of my house (this was years ago) and I had to call the fire department – they ended up dealing with him, but it took about two hours, phone calls to relatives and lots of unwelcome drama before it was done.

I don’t need any more drama. I’m at full capacity. No drama is good drama. And plus there’s a place down the street that stays open late – they’d probably give him water there. But this is going to bother me for a while, I can tell. Moral dilemma: open your door to a stranger off the street and risk mugging, death or at best frustration? Or quit being scared of other humans and help a guy out? The problem is, experience has taught me that no and I mean NO good deed goes unpunished. So maybe I do learn from the past after all.