Beggar

So we were driving in the capitol, Teguscigalpa, last week and stopped at a redlight. I saw a lady out of the corner of my eye. I tried to not look at her or make eye contact but she kept coming towards us anyway. I knew she was coming to beg as happens so many times in a third world country. When we first moved to Costa Rica, beggars were definitely the greatest source of culture shock for our children. Maybe me too. They made me feel angry, guilty, and scared all at once. I definitely had alot of culture shock and lost alot of weight because of it. (Sometimes I jokingly think, "I wish I could get a little more culture shock now in order to lose weight.")

This lady walked up to the car, turned her free hand backwards and rapped on my driver's side window. I was reminded of the passage in Matt. 25 where Jesus talked of separating the sheep from the goats by sharing a glass of water, clothes, or food. So I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small bill, lowered my window and handed it to her. We then watched as she went to a group of motorcycles, and some other cars. No one else gave her any money this time.

This beggar was a little different from the many others we have encountered in that she was carrying a small child probably between 1 and 2 years of age. His head rested on her shoulder and he was sound asleep. It was sunny and very hot. She had him covered with a towel to keep the sun off of him but I am sure it made him hotter. Because of her poverty she was standing and walking and begging in an area of heavy traffic often moving fast. Very dangerous indeed.

Well, the light turned green and we all could leave and escape the sadness of the image of her and her little boy. You may wonder if I felt good that I had tried to help her. But as I drove away all I could think is I should have given more. I asked myself over and over, "Lord, why didn't I give more?"



Walking to the next car.







Going to the motorcycles.