AronChurchEveryday LifeFamilyIvanWriting

“Wheels”

I was putting the last of my groceries into the back of our van when I saw him making his way around the parking lot at our local Walmart. It was cold outside and I had my two assistants with me (Ivan – 5 and Aron – 3) and was going about the sometimes cumbersome task of getting them buckled in with thick coats on. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed he was getting closer and realized what he was up to. He wanted something. My instincts were to hurry and get in the van before he could get to us but I wrestled with myself because…well…he was in a wheelchair for crying out loud.

He had that look about him though, that rough look, that look of age that’s not yet earned but has been borrowed from habits instead of years. I despise that look. I don’t despise the people that bear it but the look itself speaks of malnutrition of the soul. Neglect of one kind and another cause it and who knows where the blame really falls. I knew what he was up to and I knew that I was about to be preyed upon. I told myself to give him a chance. “It’s hard for anyone to get work right now, let alone a guy whose legs don’t work…c’mon ya big jerk.” I felt like a big jerk. I always do when someone asks me for money. I am a pretty giving person. I am down right generous in fact, but I don’t like being solicited in parking lots. There is an audacity to it that bothers me. I seriously try to put myself in their shoes and picture myself with nothing but kids and hunger and I still can’t imagine myself asking someone in a parking lot for money. I can see asking for the phone number to a church or a shelter but I can’t imagine asking for money. Please notice I am NOT saying I wouldn’t…because I’m just barely smart enough to know that I don’t know everything there is to know about real need.

So there I am all puffed up with the dread of being begged upon for my hard earned stay at home mom cash and sure enough he rolls up beside me. His politeness and huge smile were almost disarming, but not quite. I’m a tough nut to crack. Then he really got me, he asked for money for adult diapers. Ugh. How can you tell a man in a wheel chair “no” when he’s asking for the most humble item ever? You can’t. Seriously…I tried. At this point I had already looked in my wallet to see what was there. I actually had cash so I couldn’t use the old…”sorry, I got nothin'” but I was still suspicious. I said, “do you want me to go in the store with you and pay for some adult diapers for you?” He brightened up and said “Sure!”

I was really hoping that he was a big whiny fake and would insist on cash only (which I wasn’t going to hand over) because getting my kids back out of the van and back into that store was NOT something I wanted to do. I did it though. I knew I was being a big baby about it and I was getting pretty angry with my own inability to find some compassion. “He just wants to not pee on himself Mary! You are such a cold hearted creep.”

We followed him back into the store and though he said thank you I could feel the lack of understanding between us. He didn’t know what he was asking of me and I still don’t know for sure what I was doing for him. His “thank you” was no more compensation for me than that pack of diapers was for him. It was all just a big pile of insignificant and I couldn’t find any satisfaction in it. None.

He did entertain the boys, doing wheelies and talking to them. “My name is ‘Wheels'” he said, and they were captivated. I asked him some questions and he was more than happy to offer answers. He had been in a wheel chair for more than 10 years. He had been in a car accident because he got in the car with a drunk driver. He used to have his own business hanging drywall before he lost his ability to walk. Now he’s married and supporting a wife and her five children (from two or three different fathers…really…he just offered that information without batting an eye). He told me Christmas had been hard on them. I nodded and walked. Listening to him made me cringe. I’m buying you diapers because you can’t make good decisions. That’s what it amounted to in my mind. I smirked a little when he was explaining to Aron and Ivan that he has some little kids and Aron looked right at him and said, “My dad’s at work!”

We got to the checkout and the little girl behind the counter was a jabber-box. I like that better than the ones who don’t look at you and only grunt when you ask them a question. She gave me the total, “$18.67.” and I pulled out a $20 and looked in my change purse to see if I could cover the 67 cents. It was the exact amount of change that I had. I verbalized the phenomenon and she gasped. “You need to play those numbers for sure, that means something!” I looked at her and very flatly said, “It means I did the right thing.” She nodded…”yes you did! you sure did.” Pats on the back all around as everyone around us seemed to catch on to the fact that I was this guys benefactor for the day.

His wife came around soon after. She had been working the other side of the store. She had the same spent look as “Wheels” and when he told her what we were doing she just looked at me without a smile or a thank you as if I weren’t even there.

We all walked out of the store together and I thought, well I spent my money on this guy I think it earns me the right to a little honesty hand out as well. I said, “Wheels” you need to get into a church. The life you’re living isn’t working. More than just your legs need healing but God can heal all of it.”

He interrupted me, “Do you have a number to a church because we could use some help with our light bill.”

I shook my head and said, “They aren’t going to pay your light bill. I’ll tell you where my church is and I’m inviting you to attend. You need help, what you’re doing isn’t working.”

He kept his smile, but I knew I had been tuned out. “Yeah, thanks, maybe we can make it over there sometime.”

He was gone.

The experience was far too disappointing to draw me out of my own preconceived ideas about every pan-handler I see in America. However, I did learn something from it. I walked away with was a little bit better understanding of God. You see, God knew everything about “Wheels,” what he had done wrong, what potential he wasted and even the fact that no matter what I did, he wasn’t going to come to church with me. He knew that I was going to have little to no impact on that man’s life, but He still wanted me to give. Why? I think it’s just because He loves “Wheels.”

That’s all.

If I can’t love the people God loves, why am I here? I’ve been asking God to help me see a little better now. I want to look at people with a little more of His perspective and if I don’t have it, it’s not the fault of the wayward soul in front of me with their hand open. It’s the fault of my own lack of understanding, the Holy Spirit is being suppressed in me in that area. I am responsible to allow Him to live in me more freely.

Does that mean I should give my money to everyone who asks? Nope. I won’t do it when I know it’s just going to be used for drugs or alcohol. I am careful, but I am going to try to lean more toward careful to hear the Holy Spirit instead of careful to hold onto my cash.

5 thoughts on ““Wheels”

  1. I know you learned a lot from this experience and that’s great. What I also thought about is what those little angels learn as they watch their momma being led by the Holy Spirit and helping others. It so precious what we get to teach our kids, not only by our words, but what we show them as well. You’re a great teacher Mary!

  2. I like what Juda said, because it is a big part of the equation, I think. If my simple-minded children see me sloughing off a person in need, they read the wrong thing into it. Now, as my children grow older, so will their understanding and my ability to teach. The simple act of love, of undeserving love, of unearned love (and diapers), DOES show off how big our Christ is! No, it may not “fix” Mr. Wheels, but it may plant a seed that works at his heart in ways you will never see this side of heaven. I don’t advocate a handout, just because you have money, but if you have the chance to believe in a person’s ability to be redeemed… or to imagine the worst of them, I choose love. Every time. If we’ll listen- just as you’ve done here- and are willing to share His love, the Holy Spirit will guide us how best to do so.

  3. This is such a hard story. We all want to hear the happy ending, don’t we? I love that this is such a real story, though.

  4. Mary, this is an excellent expression of your true feelings and the conflicts that you and all of us go through. It should be published for sure!
    It reminds me of someone very close to me who, because of bad choices in the past, is now barely making it and still having to ask for help from others. But you are right, God loves them with their bad choices, and because of that we must love and love gives. Plain and simple. But giving is a joy because it always comes back to us in bigger blessings. I also love what you are teaching your kids by not telling the guy no, go away. They are learning to give like God does too.

  5. I love this story and I love the courage you showed to even acknowledge Wheels, let alone escort him into the store for his purchase. Personally, I have a REAL problem with male pahandlers who approach a woman; especially a woman who is unaccompanied by a man, and even worse . . . an unaccopanied woman with her children!! I think it’s just plain poor manners; inconsiderate. I think they should have the courtesy to not approach women, but to approach the men they see in the parking lot. I’d like to think that wall of mine would be crumbled upon being approached by a man in a wheelchair and hearing his request for diapers, and I’d like to think I would have taken the same approach you did, but I’m not sure what I would have done in that situaion. I like to think I’m a giving, compassionate person who always wants to help and give generously, when I know my helping serves a greater good and not just a temporary fix, but how do any of us know when approached by the “Wheels” of this world that their request is truly a desire to have something greater than a quick/temporary fix; that our action can/will have a lasting difference for them? Mary I think you did the absolute right thing. I only wish after reading your story that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I would have done the same thing that day in that situation. I don’t know that.

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