Peanut Butter and Toothpaste

I knew when God called us to live in New York City that many new and stretching experiences were ahead for me. And indeed, I often find myself in brand new circumstances in which I can find nothing in my past to draw from to help me know what to do or how to respond.

Tonight our small group got together and assembled food bags to share with the homeless later in the evening. We made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, added some fruit, cookies, juice, etc, We ended up with 30 such modest meals in total. At about 10:00 PM we jumped on the M34 cross town bus heading for Penn Station. A few weeks ago I was at Penn at about 4 AM. Penn is normally one of the busiest places in Manhattan as all the trains from New Jersey and Long Island feed into the station. At 4 AM, however, there were very few people, with the exception of the many homeless sleeping on the floors and in the chairs in the waiting areas. So with Matthew 25 in mind, we decided to go to Penn and feed Jesus (“When I was hungry, you gave me something to eat…when you did it to the least of these, you did it to me”).

On our arrival, we split into groups and fanned out to different parts of the station. Since it was early in the night I wasn’t sure if we would find many needing help. But within 20 minutes, all of the food had been given away. We could have easily given away 100.

This was a unique experience. I learned some new things, watching the homeless care for each other. Several times as we handed food to one person, they asked if a friend could also have one, and then took us to where he or she was hanging out. There is a community of homeless people who look out for each other and care for each other. But there was more for me to learn this night.

As we were waiting at the rendezvous point for everyone to show up, I noticed a blind man walking through the corridor, using his cane to avoid obstacles. He literally bumped into us, and made a 90 degree turn into a drug store. As soon as he was in the store, he turned right again into a narrow dead end where an ATM was located. Thinking he was lost and confused, I followed him into the store to see if I could get him back on track. I approached him and asked if I could help him. He did not respond. I asked again. He ignored me. Then he began to rummage through his back pack. It was then that I noticed a sign hanging around his neck that said “I am deaf and blind.” He could not see me, he could not hear me! As I pondered this conundrum, my complete inability to communicate with him, he pulled out of his backpack an empty toothpaste box, and a coupon for $1.00 off a toothbrush. He handed them toward me. I took them and asked him if he was trying to buy these items. Oops, he can’t hear me. What do I do? I stood there with these items in my hands and did nothing, looking around for some kind of help. Then he pulled out a stack of paper and a pen and began to write to me. “Am I a store employee?” He handed the paper to me. I wrote “no”, wondering how that would help since he could not see. I handed him the paper back to him and he held it right up to his eyes, the paper literally pressed against his face. He took him a long time to decipher the writing. He wrote “Are you volunteering to help?” “Yes”, I replied. He wrote about the toothbrush and the toothpaste he needed. As he handed the paper back to me, it fell to the floor and as it scattered, I saw that many pages were filled with writing- conversations he had had all day as he had navigated in a world he could not see, could not hear, and could not speak into. That realization hit me so hard that my eyes began to fill up with tears. What a way to have to live! I don’t think I would even try.

After a few more written exchanges, I headed off to find the toothpaste and toothbrush. When I returned, we exchanged a few more messages about the items. At the end, I asked him his name. When he pressed the paper to his eyes to read my question, he broke into this beautiful smile and wrote “Artiz”. I wrote my name and he smiled again when he read it. He wrote “Thanks, and God bless you.”

God did bless me tonight by allowing me to spend time with Artiz. I’ll admit when I first realized he was blind and deaf and mute, I wanted to just walk out the door. It was awkward and I felt inadequate to help. But I will never forget his beautiful smile, and more importantly, his courage to live with such challenges. When I left him, I easily navigated the stairs, through the crowd on 34th Street, on to the bus, and home to my apartment. I do these things every day without much thought Sometimes I complain about the bus being late, or crowded, or the weather being bad, which means most of the time I lack gratitude for what I do have- like sight, hearing, speech.

God, help me to live with the resolve and courage and resourcefulness, and the attitude I discovered in a man who is living with challenges that I really cannot imagine. And please keep Artiz from harm.