She was maybe 45. She looked lost. Lost in her pain, lost in society, everyone ignored her. Dirty clothes, dirty sign. Please help. I bet she was a cute child whose eyes, at one time, held hope and smiled brightly. What happened that led her to this corner?
No one looked at her. They looked ahead. It is easy not to make eye contact. She put her sign to windows. help. I noticed a man squirming. I can imagine people silently urging, wishing the light will turn green.
I watched her and our eyes met. Do I continue to make eye contact? How could I even ask this question?
I tried to smile but I felt useless. I could not give her money, she was too far away. A smile? I felt silly. They say money won't help, but I cannot ignore this child. Yet somehow I do. My red truck is a world away from her concrete corner. The light turned green and I moved forward.
All I could do was wish her peace.
As I drove off, I wondered how many diverted their eyes when Jesus was on the cross. Those eyes that held love, and now no one is looking back, looking into this eyes. He is in pain, searching. Look away.
The only eyes that look back are the eyes of his mother. Did she try to comfort him with a smile. Did it help Jesus just knowing that someone was looking back.
On this corner, a woman on her cross.
Maybe when a person is on the cross, on their own painful, dirty cross, I will try and look into their eyes. I may learn something about them. I may learn the mystery of love, I may learn something about myself.
Lord give me the heart, the eyes, the love to look into their eyes.