On most days you can find 3 to 4 “out of luck” people on the four corners of Broadway and Canyon Street in Boulder. This cold, windy day in November was no exception. While approaching the stop light at this corner I was musing over my recent car problems, problems that were requiring a lot of money that I did not have at the moment.
This thought was coupled with other fear-inducing thoughts of a current lack of abundance going on in my life: job, no-job currently for my spouse, the approach of Christmas and oh, the mortgage payment. I was trying not to be sucked down the black hole of despair. However, it was hard to concentrate on the black hole of despair due to the incessant rattling of the 1989 Subaru car frame that I was borrowing.
Again, trying not to focus on the negative and being the proverbial grateful personality that I am, I stopped at the light and noticed the gentleman on the corner with his sign. It read “Anything helps.” He was neatly dressed — jeans and a blue windbreaker over a button down shirt that showed some care and running shoes.
“How true was that,” was my first thought. It struck me in such an identifying way that I reached into my bag on the seat next to me to get the 5 bucks that I was saving for my tall, soy, Bhakti Chai. I liked him. I liked his sign.
I rolled down the window and called over — it was a little precarious for him because I was in the middle lane and he had to cross a lane of traffic to get to me. I didn’t want to cause an accident but the call to give this man my Chai-intended 5 bucks was stronger than the feat of crossing Boulder traffic. Here is the reason.
He looked like Santa Claus, Really. His mid-length white hair and wire rim glasses popped his round cherry cheeks and he emanated the round, jovial elf that we all deny believing in. He turned and smiled at my “hello” and gently reached in to receive my 5 dolllars. He bent his head down so that we were eye level and graciously thanked me for going out of my way. “I appreciate it,” he said and nodded. With that he turned with a smile and gracefully returned to his corner. I couldn’t take my eyes off of his resemblance, and oh ya, I don’t believe in Santa Clause.
It was a miracle that he did not get hit by the brand new Mercedes SUV that whizzed into the next lane waiting for the light to turn. With a race car driver’s determined game-face, this gentleman looked over in my direction with the expression that I was indeed crazy and inconveniencing him. Probably. I just smiled and hoped that all the cars behind me saw what just transpired. I knew that it was lofty, but I sincerely hoped a pay-it-forward moment would occur for all of the drivers on the corners of Broadway and Canyon that cold morning.
The light turned green. The car behind me honked of course, and we all began racing on the hamster wheel of our daily grind.
My moment stayed with me all day and until this very moment as I am writing. That could have been my granddad, my dad, anyone that we know and love — you, me.
We will never know what circumstances lead a person to stand on a corner, fillet their dignity and ask total strangers for money. It can’t feel very good.
This was my moment to remember, amid all of the daily distractions, my things for which I am grateful and to remember others who are struggling — just like the rest of us. I was grateful that I received the message of the sign.
The next time you see a guy on the corner with a sign, take few seconds and read. Be open to the message. It may surprise you.
Yep, I think I just gave 5 bucks to Santa Claus. I would do it again in a wink of an eye and a twist of my head.
Nicole Morrish lives in Nederland.
EDITOR’S NOTE: This is an online-only column and has not been edited.
