After rescuing some food from a nearby restaurant and dropping it off at a homeless shelter, a man walked out into the street with me. He had just finished wolfing down a hot meal the shelter served, and was on his way out. He had grabbed a sandwich that I just brought in and was packing it into his bag. As we exited, he called out to me and asked, "Excuse me, where is the Spring Street train station?"
I pointed him towards the right direction, and told him he could just follow me because I was heading in the same direction. He introduced himself as Scott, and we got to chatting right away as he smoked a cigarette. He had waited 40 minutes in the rain for a meal because the shelter he was residing at ran out of food. He travelled down to the Bowery Mission for an hour for this meal. He got to talking about how he was a marketing major in high school, and was now looking for a job in security. He said he hadn't eaten since the morning because doesn't have the money yet.
Before I had a chance to learn more, we had arrived at Spring Street and were going our different directions. I will never know how he got to the situation he was in, but then again, maybe it didn't matter. The fact that I could make a small difference in this person's life by providing the food that could fuel his hope was inspiring.
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