The Lord is my shepherd - and about being poor

I wanted to share a story that happened the other day, and which I felt symbolizes parts of what this year is about. After work yesterday and a nice chat with Chris before he got on his train, I went to find somewhere sunny so that I could write some stuff. Since I recently lost my water bottle, I didn’t have any water. After sitting in the sun for a while, I eventually got thirsty, but I didn’t have any money to buy water. The last remaining dollars I needed to use on laundry, if I were to have clean underwear after this weekend.

I got really thirsty, and went to Starbucks to ask for a free cup of water. That didn’t work out. Turned out that company policy said that they couldn’t give free water unless you bought something. I wandered on down the street, looking at all the nice restaurants that I would love to buy something at if I had the money. Which I didn’t. And I knew that I was getting food in a couple of hours or so, as we were meeting with all the Mission Year people tonight. But I was still thirsty. I walked into Subway, but turned around when I saw that they didn’t have a water dispenser, which usually is a sign that you can get free water. I walked on, and walked past an Asian restaurant, which looked good. I walked past, and turned, thinking: Could it be that they had some water for me? I went in and asked: “Excuse me ma’am, could I have a cup of water?”. She said sure you can, and gave me one of her made-ready-cups of water. I thanked her and went out. I prayed the prayer sentence I’ve been praying the last week, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want”, and thought that it couldn’t be more true than that.

While walking down the street I thought about how it felt to ask and receive something for free, when suddenly a man stops me just a block down the street. He asks me if I got anything to eat. I say sure, and get out a banana, an orange and an old apple, and say that it’s the only food I got. He thanks me and walks away. While I’m thinking about this I cross the street, and I’m once again stopped by a man that introduces himself, and explain that he receives help from an organization for homeless people. But he needs money for his medicine, and asks if I can help him. I tell him that I don’t have any money, that the few dollars I have I need for my laundry, but that I can pray for him. He thanks me, gives me a fist bump, and walks away. And when I’m trying to find a sunny spot outside to write this down, since I can’t afford to buy something so that I can sit inside, I’m wondering if this is what it means to be poor. At the same time I’m reflecting on how thankful I am to receive, and how glad I am to give of the little I have. The Lord is surely my shepherd, and I do not lack of anything.