Vernon Came Back.
When confronted by a panhandler on the street or even on your own doorstep — what does the LORD require? Shane Bertou, a husband, father, writer, blogger and would-be pastor from Rochester, NY shares with us one such story. Read on and be challenged to consider your own choices and share your own experiences…
Several weeks ago, I had just finished eating dinner with my family when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a rather disheveled looking man holding a bag of canned goods. He extended his hand and introduced himself as “Vernon.”
I didn’t shake his hand.
“What can I do for you Vernon?,” I asked uninvitingly.
“Listen man,” he said, “Normally, I would never do this…”
As he began to tell me his story, I prepared myself to be underwhelmed. It’s not that I’m not compassionate to those in need around me, it’s just that there’s so many of them. And they all seem to have the same story: I’ve recently fallen on hard times, I just need a couple bucks for bus fare, I just need a little money for food, I don’t have any family in the area, I’m on “disability,” I can’t walk, I can’t work, and I can’t do anything to help myself.
Needless to say, I’ve heard it all before. It just sort of comes with the territory when you live in an inner-city neighborhood like ours.
But Vernon’s story was different. He told me that he just needed a few dollars to get on the bus to go to rehab. He had been using crack for a number of years and it was taking a tremendous toll on him. He decided that he needed to do something to make a change in his life, so he called a local rehabilitation center. They told him that they would admit him to their program if he could just find a way to get there.
I don’t know why, but the more I heard his story the more I began to soften up to him. Maybe I was caught off guard by the fact that he was admitting his drug problem. I hadn’t heard any “pan handlers” include that in their pitch before. It seemed bold to ask someone for money after you have already admitted to having and addiction.
For a split second I actually thought about taking Vernon to the treatment center in my car. I figured that way I’d know he was really getting the help he needed. But not wanting to risk my family’s safety, I decided that wasn’t the wisest option.
I told Vernon to wait outside for me while I went inside to see what I could do. A few minutes later I emerged with a plastic bag full of change that we had lying around the house. From what I could tell it looked like it had mostly pennies and nickels. “There’s not much in here,” I said, ” but there should be enough silver to get you on the bus if you need to go get help.”
I was content to leave it at that. He had what he came for, and I was looking to get back to my family. Then he broke down crying.
“I’m just so tired,” he sobbed. “I can’t take this anymore!” “I’m so hungry… so thirsty.”
I thought it was ironic that a man carrying a bag full of canned goods would complain about being hungry. But I decided that I could help him out by putting a little food in his stomach too. After all, we had just finished dinner and the leftovers would still be warm.
I told him to sit and wait again.
Moments later I emerged with a container full of hot leftovers, a plastic fork and a bottle of water. Vernon thanked me and began to leave. I was still a bit skeptical of Vernon’s story even as I watched him go. I replayed the entire exchange multiple times in my head, looking for any evidence that I had been duped. I even fought back feelings of fear as I wondered if maybe he was just trying to get a glimpse into our house to see what he could steal the next time we’re away from home.
As I sat there thinking about everything, Vernon eventually disappeared from sight. And then from my memory.
I had a choice to make that day. I could have ignored the knock at the door. I could have refused to give him anything. I could have treated him like the pan-handling bum I assumed he was. Sometimes, it’s hard to be discerning in these situations. When you pass these people on the street they’re easy to ignore. When they come knocking at your door it’s another story.
As a follower of Christ I believe that we are called to care for the “least of these” in whatever capacity we are able. But our willingness to help is often deterred by our fear of the unknown. How do we know our offering won’t be used for drugs? How do we know we’re not being lied to? How do we know we aren’t just enabling professional pan handlers and grifters? The fact of the matter is that often times we don’t. And that uncertainty often keeps our hearts hardened and our hands in our pockets.
The other day I was finishing up some work at the office when the phone rang. My wife was on the line. “Hey, you’ll never guess who just stopped by the house,” she said. “Vernon!”
It took a minute to register the name. It had been several weeks since he came by the house the first time and I had all but forgotten about him.
But, Vernon came back. This time looking much healthier and in much nicer clothes. He told my wife that he had just gotten out of rehab and is now clean and sober for the first time in fifteen years. He’s looking better, feeling better and has a whole new perspective on life. He stopped by the house just to thank us for helping him.
As it turned out, some leftover food, a bottle of water and a handful of nickels was all it took to give Vernon a new lease on life. All I had to do was open the door.
- Shane Bertou is a husband, father, writer, blogger and would-be pastor who lives in Rochester, NY. You can read his frequent thoughts and ramblings online at ShaneBertou.com.
I love this story…mostly because I live out different versions of it every day. It does me good to hear testimonies like these.
Yesterday it was “Mike†who sat with me at Starbucks, a Katrina survivor, here with his family, fell a little short with tonight’s hotel cost, needed 20 bucks. I gave him some. Now, I didn’t believe him, still don’t, but we sat and talked for a while – he shared with me some improv slam poetry (his talent was real enough), I told about him about my church and said if he was really in need to come find me. Maybe there was something there, maybe I got scammed, but I do think it is important to let your guard down once and a while and try to press in.
Tonight it was a panicked woman in the street, said she was 3 months pregnant, said she was bleeding and feared for her baby’s life, needed 50 bucks for a cab to get to a south-side hospital. She gave an Oscar worthy performance, but I didn’t believe her, no one did because she’s been running that same scam for a while now. I love to listen to the story, but when I said I would call her an ambulance that was pretty much the end.
Can you ever know? Maybe someone can compile a list of ways to see through some of the best sales pitches. Maybe we should really give to anyone who asks of us and not worry about anything else.
This is a truly incredibly story. I feel exactly the same in terms of not wanting to be duped. But at this point my husband and I have stopped over-thinking situations and try to help in any way we can, even if it’s just some change. My husband has a gift with connecting with people….he smiles at every one and asks their name. Those on the streets are always appreciative of this and a smile will cross their sweet worn faces every time.
I love this story as well! Several months ago, I wrote a blog on MySpace discussing this topic from a different perspective. I was in Jacksonville, FL onn business. I was returning to my hotel from dinner one night with a “doggie bag”. I was approached by a homeless man who asked for money for food. I asked his name, and he said, “Joe”. I told Joe that I wouldn’t give him money, but he could have the bag. Joe broke down and cried right there as he accepted the bag of food.
Upon returning to the hotel, another guest, who had witnessed the exchange, said, “I can’t believe that you gave that bum anything!”.
I wrote that I was embarrassed that I gave table scraps to a human being, and offered nothing more than a short conversation. But I was more embarrassed by the fact that we, as a society, have lost our humanity to the point where we cannot acknowledge the presence of another human being!
Thank you for the perspective offered in this article. I can see that God can, and most probably did, use the “table scraps” offered.
Has anyone heard of, had experience with, or have thoughts on the “replate” concept? http://www.replate.org
Thanks for the encouraging story. I need to hear it because it is easy to become cynical and calloused with those who ask for money. It reminds me that I can at least engage in conversation with any of the 4-6 panhandlers that I encounter every single day. They all have a true story somewhere in there.
When I first read this story I felt as if the author was telling me to not be afraid to give at least something to every panhandler I ran into. While I don’t think that this is what he would endorse, I think it’s a mindset some of us fall into. Give to everyone and hope that at some point your money will have an impact. The bigger point is that we should open our hearts to them first and be willing to treat them as a human being which, at least for me, is a lot harder to do. If, after having a conversation, it really feels as if God is calling us to give, then give.
This video on the site helped me see it a little better:
http://thejustlife.org/home/2007/02/27/helping-the-homeless-in-la/#more-131
Would most of you agree? Has anybody else ran into this mindset? Are there any situations where opening up first and giving second doesn’t work or where we have to take a different approach? I really don’t want to be afraid to serve God’s children but I also want to be a steward of the resources he gave me.
Roger.
I like your questions…I have learned in my interactions with homeless that first and foremost they are just people…and really if we stop to admit it we are all just one or two bad breaks from being homeless ourselves…that doesn’t mean all homeless people are exonerated from bad choices that they have made…but a lot of time stuff just happens.
In my line of work I encounter a lot of homeless people…the problem with just giving money is it more perpetuates the situation. If you ever want to help a homeless person get off the streets you have to engage with them…walk thru life with them. If you dont have the time just have lunch with them and have a conversation with them. Money rarely solves the problem…People are never homeless because of a lack of money it usely comes down to some bad decisions they made or sometimes just bad circumstances.
Live in the power of the question…What does it mean to “Go sell everything give it to the poor and come follow me?” as Jesus told the rich young ruler.
I’ve heard so many stories from people looking for money that I find it hard to believe the new ones I’m told. I was a missionary in Brazil and got it a lot, then minister of a church in a crossroads town in New Mexico (lots of grifters and drifters there) and now get hit up for money outside the church building in Newark, NJ. Just a couple of weeks ago a fellow interrupted the Brazilian church’s service looking for a handout. I was afraid I’d have to call the police. He gave me a pretty standard sob story (among other things said he was dying of thirst, but had a fresh, sealed bottle of water plainly visible in his shopping back), and after refusing for a long time to leave finally took out a long, thin cigar, lit up and left.
I hope I don’t turn away people who can really use help, but I hate to be suckered for drug or alcohol money. I’m glad to read that sometimes people really need and receive help.