Scruffy old men were once upon a life young, egoistic and full of hope.
I believe I heard the late, great Jim Rohn say, “You’ve got to touch people where they are.” Far too often, however, people dismiss people simply because they look and act differently than they do.
What a tragedy that we refuse to leave our safety bubble of peppermint sticks and good fairies in order to experience the seeds’ and seediness of life.
In the teeming hell fires of a Bombay or Mogadishu slum stand idle vagrants looking at you for a handout or busily rummaging through garbage for some rancid morsel or a tin can to sell.
How disgusting and despicable these crumb bums seem from our sterile world perspective.
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But if God’s sacred camera were rolling we would see acts’ of kindness beyond belief. One starving vagrant giving his ration to another more-emaciated street mate.
The world is full of benevolence, and not only from those with a big wad of cold cash. This is a story about a brush I had with a scruffy old man, Jacques, whom I met in my more humble days on the streets of San Francisco. Jacques was extraordinary under his scruffy beard.
Let the judge draw out this important personal story…
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