Meeting Matthew
His sign said, “Hungry, anything helps.” He was standing at the corner of a street. I was in my car, driving from grad school to my elementary school where I was supposed to teach in a few minutes. Of course, I looked away at first, trying to justify myself because I was in a hurry and didn’t have much to share. Giving a man some granola just seemed like an insult. A few weeks before, I had passed someone and tried to give them half a cup of coffee and an apple, which they refused rather bitterly. Admittedly, half a cup of coffee is not the best gift, and an apple will not do much if you are hungry. But it was all that I had at the time, and the rejection left me a bit sour and hesitant to possibly be rejected again. “I never know what to do in these situations,” I thought to myself, frustrated as I oscillated between my instincts to help and my fear and questioning. But when the traffic was too heavy and the light turned red again, leaving me at the same corner for a couple mi