Spiritual Experience

From Judgment to Compassion

When I lived in Maryland, my house was out in a rural area. When I would go into Baltimore City, I always took the same route. There was a stoplight just before getting on the highway going home. Many times, a man or woman would be on the corner begging for money. If the light was green, the traffic was such that it was difficult to stop. However, the red light was a long one and I always gave something to whoever was there.

One day, I was coming up to this corner and the light turned red. There was a man with a homeless sign. The thought voice said, "Give him a twenty." I had never given out this much money before and was a little embarrassed by the offering, so I folded the bill up and tried to conceal the denomination as I handed it to him. He immediately looked at it and asked, "Why did you give me so much money?" I answered truthfully, "The voice told me to." I expected him to laugh or question me further about "the voice," but to my great surprise, he said, "I know you!"

Now I rarely went into the city, maybe once or twice a year, and I was certain I did not know any homeless, toothless, middle-aged black men. My judgmental mind immediately decided that this was a line or gimmick for more money. In that instant, the conversation became understandable to me, and I was no longer uncomfortable with how this man might know who I was. My end to this mystery was that he was bluffing and didn't know me at all!

Then he said, "Your name is Mary." I was flabbergasted beyond belief and stammered, "How do you know me?" I did not have a name tag on and there was nothing in or on my car that would in any way indicate what my name was. Turns out, he knew me from thirty years ago when I was a waitress earning extra money for college at a local restaurant and he was a busboy. He remembered me even though my hair had turned gray, and I looked very different.

The inequity of our lives was heartbreaking. As the light changed, and I drove away I started to cry. I was an American princess in the land of opportunity, and he probably never had a chance. Though I remembered the job and situation, despite all my education and intelligence, I had forgotten this person completely, his name and his face, while he had remembered me. He never forgot who I was even after thirty years, and he never judged me according to my clothes or condition. He met me without pretense. But though I acted generously, I know in my heart that I judged him as I drove up to that corner. Was he really homeless? Would he go on a binge with the money I gave him? Why didn't he get a job? I acted like part of the solution, but my judgment made me part of the problem.

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Excerpt from Heart Journey