The first time I saw Danny sitting on the sidewalk near Amsterdam Ave & 73rd St, I wasn’t sure if I should stop. He was sitting cross-legged on the hot summer pavement, head in his hand, no cardboard sign or verbal begging– just a silent gaze at people as they passed by. Nervous and uncomfortable, I continued walking. I thought to myself, “He’s probably fine, he doesn’t need me to stop and talk to him. What difference will it make? He looks a little somber anyways; I don’t think he would receive anything I would say to him, not even a ‘hello’.” How often these thoughts cross my mind when I see the poor on the streets near my home and throughout the city. This habit of indifference is so innate and deep within me that it is oftentimes painful to break through.
The next time I saw Danny, seated in the same spot in the sun, I knew I needed to stop. The same thoughts went through my mind again. Something inside pushed me to crouch next to him and speak to him. I asked his name, then reached into my bag and pulled out a card that read “Tú eres precioso en los ojos de Dios” (“You are precious in God’s eyes”, from Isaiah 43:4). I handed the card to him and read it out loud in Spanish and English, to which he smiled and thanked me. To my surprise, this seemingly somber man broke out of his hardened, silent gaze and became overjoyed. This small encounter was the entry point for our friendship.
I saw Danny almost daily for two weeks after that. Each time we would speak briefly or pray for his intentions of good health, finding a job and for shelter. He was always happy to see me and I looked forward to walking down Amsterdam Ave. towards 73rd St, knowing there was a high possibility I would run into my new friend. Once, I was sitting with Danny and he showed me a list of resources someone had given him for shelters and food lines. I told him about St. Anthony’s, a shelter run by the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal in the South Bronx. I gave him the information and encouraged him to reach out. After telling him about St. Anthony’s, Danny looked me in the eyes and said “You make me feel good. You make me feel like I’m not nothing, like everybody else says.” Whoa! I didn’t know what to say. I replied, “Danny, Jesus is in you. And Jesus is in me. How could I not stop to talk with you?”
I learned a few things from this encounter. We all need to understand our dignity and worth through reminders and eye contact (especially in this time of face masks). We all need to remember the presence of God dwelling within each of us, and, when we are rooted in these truths in our own hearts we must respond to the call to give these truths to others. We must follow the gravity of love which pulls our hearts to the poorest of the poor in our vicinity. This gravity of love pulled me to Danny the day we met and led to an encounter that may have changed the trajectory of his life. I know it certainly changed mine. Let us be responsive to this pull, which is the Holy Spirit, tugging at us to find and give love to the poorest of the poor in our lives— the materially or spiritually poor who look “okay” but are suffering inside. Let us go to love Christ in our midst.
A drawing of Danny from memory