This morning I had the chance to see real humanity (and Christianity) in action.
There is a guy who rides the train every morning asking for change for the bus. Most people pretend he doesn't exist, or offer a half-hearted smile and a slight shake of the head with a "sorry, man" (I am not excluding myself here).
This morning, a young man took the seat next to me as I rode to work. He opened a book and started to read. Probably 30, married, plain-looking guy. As the "train man" started his beggar's shuffle up the car before his stop, my seat mate paused.
"What's your name?" he asked, book closed in one hand while the other went to his bag.
"Mike," the man answered, after several moments of skeptical hesitation.
"Well, Mike," my seatmate said, extending the hand from his bag. "I'm Paul," he said, slipping ten dollars into the palm.
And Mike whispered "thanks" as he exited the car.
And Paul smiled softly, as he returned to his Bible.
It was the New Testament, from what I could tell; it was hard to see behind my veil of tears.
So thank you, Mike, for reminding me of humanity.
And thank you, Paul, for giving me hope.
