Over a year ago, we had a homeless person living in our neighborhood.  I found this out by coming upon him sleeping in a sort of pagoda that is part of the nature boardwalk I sometimes take Lady dog on in our morning walks.

By the time I had decided what I wanted to do to help this person out -left a ziplock bag with clean socks, a clean shirt, some wet wipes and fast-food gift cards under “his” bench- he had figured out his daily commute from our safe park to where ever was not worth it.  A few days later, I retrieved the untouched goodie bag.

This is not something I would have done in Chicago.  Growing up, I saw a homeless person in my neighborhood every day.  Several times a day if I went somewhere besides around the block or school.  I did carry some change to hand out and supported Streetwise.  But moving from Chicago to a tourist destination meant the homeless in my area were no longer in my face on a regular basis.  FL cities do a lot to make sure people looking for the Disney experience don’t experience pan handlers as well.

Because of this, when I see someone on a street corner with a cardboard sign I almost always give them something.  And I make a point of taking off my sunglasses, looking them in the face, and asking if they are having an OK day.

Yes, it makes this little privileged white girl feel like she’s really…connected…with this soul who wants her dollar.

For what it’s worth, I started doing this because of the positive response and handshakes I received each time.

But this guy sleeping in my neighborhood…he brought up many discussions with friends about what to do for a panhandler and the unfortunate substance abuse that often goes along with being down on your luck.  Does handing someone a few bucks equate to handing them their addiction?  And is that our place to judge?

The end result is that for over a year, I have carried in my car’s middle console 5-dollar gift cards to the most established fast food restaurant in our area.  This ensures the receiver must purchase food (or be savvy enough to trade it for something else).  The receiver gets enough from me for a meal – I know if no one else stops for that person all day they will have one meal.  This also ensures I have a conversation with the receiver – I am upfront with what I have on me and give them the option of accepting or not.

Even though I am a little privileged white girl, just giving away five bucks willy-nilly needs accounting in our budget.  I mean, I don’t even get Tom a lotto ticket every week.  So he was a participant in the discussions that led to this decision.  He agreed with my solution and as the primary driver on our weekend errands has given away more than his fair share of cards.

Today, coming home from a way too involved and time consuming but enjoyable afternoon with friends at a street fair, there was someone with a cardboard sign at our turn from US 19 onto Ulmerton.

Me: I can’t read what his sign says from here….We have one card left, do you want to give it to him?

Tom: Yes, I think I do.

Me: Don’t forget to ask him if he really wants it.

Tom: I know, I know.

(It’s possible I say this EVERY TIME Tom gives out a gift card.)

The gentleman came over, hurrying with a limp (affected or not, who knows).

Tom explained what we had to offer.

The man’s eyes lit up like we offered him his weight in gold.

We had enough time to watch him limp back to his post (we were several cars into the lane, so it wasn’t safe for him to dally by our side).  He turned his back to the line of cars and unraveled the package, clearly excited.

Me:  Thank you.  I’m so happy you are on board with this.

Tom:  Baby, we work hard to be kind to all the animals.  That should include people.

Amen.