The Sam’s Club parking lot wasn’t crowded when we stopped for a big box of K-cup coffee pods. As we walked in, I heard a voice, “Sir, could you get me a bag?” We turned and saw a young lady around the corner from the main entrance, standing by a suitcase.
Assuming she was homeless, I turned and said, “A bag of what?”
“No,” she answered, “Just a bag. A Sam’s Club bag.”
“You mean a shopping bag?” I glanced at my wife, we both shrugged, and I said, “Sure. We’ll be back out in a few minutes.”
Of course, you never come out of Sam’s with just one thing. I grabbed the coffee and some peanut butter while my wife found a pack of snack crackers for the grandkids. After glancing around the checkout area, I asked an employee, “Do you have any Sam’s shopping bags?”
She said, “No. We have lots of boxes. But we don’t sell any bags.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I wasn’t surprised. I kind of knew were this was going anyway. She was looking for a handout. We decided to get something she could easily eat, in this case a box of beef jerky strips.
She was still there when we walked out of the store. My wife offered her the food and said, “They don’t have bags here.”
The woman said, “I asked and they said they did.”
“Well, here is some food.”
“No thanks.”
Our grandson likes these, so they wouldn’t go to waste. My wife said, “She probably wanted some money.”
“Yeah, I know. But we’re not doing that.”
The topic came up in bible class. Helping the poor and homeless often comes up. The best way to help isn’t obvious. Someone said, “That guy with a sign on the street corner? He’s not poor. He’s got a cell phone and a big wad of cash in his pocket. My friend gives him rides all the time. He’s doing just fine.”
Another person added, “I was talking to the sheriff and asked him about helping people like that. Never give them money. Instead, support the organizations that feed, house, and help them get jobs.”
We encounter it every day. What’s the best way to help? The answer is rarely obvious.
As I’ve mentioned before, you can live out in the middle of nowhere, and people will find your home, especially if you are the pastor and you live next door to the church. One thirty-something gentleman that I remember from our Connecticut days drove up our drive way and knocked at the door one evening. He told what I came to learn was the usual story: in-between jobs, family to feed, anything I can do to help. Not that we had that much cash anyway, but in those pre-ATM days, you couldn’t even go out and easily get some. You usually had to go to the bank and cash a check.
My phone buzzed, I glanced down and saw this text: “Why did you give money to that man?”
Waite for it... 