This evening I took all three of my kids to get ice cream at Dairy Queen. They have been angels all week dealing with Mommy starting a charitable business and delivering meals three times in 5 days. They deserved a nice sugary treat.
While there, we saw a homeless man and I explained to them what that means. They had asked why he was walking in the middle of the street carrying a paper (his sign). I gently told them about what his life may be like… begging for food and money, sleeping outside or in his vehicle, using public restrooms, eating out of garbage cans, not being able to shower or brush his teeth and so on. They grew quiet and concerned and made sweet, compassionate comments. I told them when they see a homeless person to pray. My 4 1/2 year old middle child piped up, “Mommy, I’m going to pray for that homeless man.” As I was merging onto the freeway, this is what I heard him say…
Please help that homeless man.
Please don’t let his teeth get rotten.
Please keep him safe in his truck.
Please help him.
Teaching compassion is one thing.
Witnessing a child struck in the heart
with it naturally… Sigh. Priceless.