Pride (In The Name Of Love?)

I saw a homeless guy on the walk home from - of all places - church today. Maybe you know the one... fairly young guy, carries his stuff in a golf cart (not the one like a go-kart, the kind you pull along behind you).

I had some fruit in my bag for the little chick, and I thought maybe I should offer it to him. But I didn't.

I've tried offering food to people on the street a few times... in Geneva, in Calgary, and in Toronto, and it's been refused every time. Sometimes it's been unsealed - a sandwich from my lunch - but sometimes it's been food still packaged as I walk home from the grocery store. I'm not sure exactly why everyone I've offered it to has turned me down... I never asked, and they never volunteered. But it bothers me that I've let it stand in the way of doing something that I think I should probably do, from showing a little bit of love to someone who, whether or not he's in the mood for a banana, could probably use some love.

Am I that fragile, that I can't take being told "no" when I offer something to a stranger? Is it that these are people who, I figure, should be happy to get what I'm giving them, and so I reduce them to a caricature, without the dignity of real choice? I'm not sure where it comes from, but it saddens me. I wish I would have just offered him the fruit. It's a little late now.