Faces of the Poor, Faces of Myself

Life has been intense lately and I feel as if I've been running from one thing to the next. The other afternoon I needed to go across town to the boys' school for parent teacher meetings. It was hot, I was tired and I had a hard time finding transportation. Finally after 20 minutes I found a little electric cart that would go. He wanted a lot but I was glad to be on my way. Little did I know that these carts are slow, very slow! But I decided to catch my breath and enjoy the scenery. It gave me time to think, as the cars, buses and cngs went whizzing past. As we waited at one of the intersections, the beggars began to surround the cart. At first it was some children, hoping for some money or mango bars that I usually carry with me. When I told them I didn't have any this time, they were happy to shake my hand instead. Then the adults came - a dignified elderly, bearded gentleman who always wears a long punjabi and a toopi on his head, prayer beads around his neck and paan stained lips. An old woman who always seems to be wearing a faded blue sari, has soft milky eyes, a lone whisker on her chin and a solemn face. A spirited young mother with a bright smile on her face and with a naked toddler on her hips. As each of them came up to me, the first thing they did was ask how I was doing. I was taken aback. These dear folks seemed to be genuinely interested in how I was doing. In fact, I think the dear old woman was the only one of them who asked me for anything at all. After chatting a bit they all wondered on to other vehicles and I was left alone with my thoughts.

I was struck by the thought that in these beggars I had seen the face of God. In the midst of an extremely stressful period of time, God had showed concern for me through the poor. In the sparkling eyes of the children I had seen the love the Almighty has for life itself. In the greetings of the adults I was greeted by the Divine. In being surrounded by this group of humanity I felt a solidarity, a connection.



Sometimes it is good for us to have the tables turned, to speak in a metaphor, so that we can see things in a new way. Later in the day I read an interesting article on poverty by Claudio Oliver. The link is Article--Why I stopped serving the poor. One thought that has stayed with me is that of seeing myself in the poor, my own miserableness, my own need for help and healing. It helps put things back in perspective, that I really am no better than they are. Sure, I have a different work ethic and I'm quite happy with my work ethic but that does not put me above them. In fact, thinking back to that moment of being surrounded, what stands out to me is the calmness that each one of them portrayed. The rest of us are so busy rushing around, trying to please everyone and earn enough so we can do even more things and please even more people. The poor live in the moment. They are not rushing, not striving - at least not the ones I see. I have seen some pretty happy beggars, some that are down right hilarious. Like the old lady who buys my father-in-law tea and grabbed flowers from a vendor and gave them to my mother-in-law when they were having their photo taken. I love those moments when they are caught off guard, just enjoying life. I see it the most in the children. The best example is a little girl who was smiling and talking to us until she all at once remembered she was expected to beg and look sad so she put on a sad face just like that and started talking in a whiny voice. It cracked me up and made me sad at the same time. So I won't say the poor don't have pressures or feel the need to please or perform. But still, they have a way of living in the moment and enjoying the little things in life that the rest of us could learn something from.


I met with a group of people to listen to some psychologists share one evening about depression and burn out. The struggle to deal with poverty was one topic that came up. One of the speakers made some comment about the guilt we feel when we do not give to the poor as actually being pride, in the sense that I have something that would make them happy if I gave it to them. Like being poor is a bad thing and they would be happier if they were like me and I have the power to fix this. Ahem.

Don't get me wrong, I'm totally against the injustice that nearly always comes to those who are poor. But when you really look at it, we are all poor and desperately needy.


In the words of Jesus, God blesses those who are poor and who realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.