The past couple days I’ve stopped and spoken with Rick on the way in to work. Rick is a smart man, and a good guy; his home is just….nowhere.

I’ve seen Rick for several weeks now, sitting on a bench next to Cherry Creek that runs through Denver. I had been nervous to look at him as I walked by, for fear that he would ask for money (which I never carry).

A few days ago, My beautiful wife had made home-made wheat bread, and packed me a sandwich along with something else for lunch. That morning as I was walking by Rick, I saw that he was examining his feet, which were in poor shape. I didn’t stare — I never stare — but at a glance I could tell.

I walked by, and tried to ignore this feeling that I had to stop and give him my sandwich. I walked a block further, and only thoughts of Christ, and the people he looked after, came to my mind. I got to the steps of my workplace and turned around.

I came up to Rick, and politely asked if he had anything for lunch. He replied that he didn’t. I offered him my sandwich, which he humbly and gratefully accepted (and commented at being excited that it was homemade bread).

We didn’t speak much that day, but since then, I’ve taken some time each morning, and have talked with him. He graduated from a local college, and even had taken graduate-level physics courses. He’s read all ‘the classics’ and can tell you just about anything from them — and is always reading something new. He even programmed when computers were the size of a room. He’s over 60 years old, and has been without a home for 6 years, but doesn’t mind it.

I now look forward to my brief morning meetings with Rick, and the things he has to talk about…

Who knew?