The Canadian Reality Check

On Friday, Joey, Cuz and I headed downtown to the parking lot of Dallas Metrocare to help hand out food to homeless people. We've been feeling convicted lately about our bad attitudes towards the ones who stand on the corners begging, so we decided one tangible way to change our hearts was to serve them.

I got home from work and changed into a grungy pair of jeans and what I thought was a nondescript t-shirt. (It was my red one with the white maple leaf and it says "eh?" on it...hilarious;) We left Henry at home in his kennel (although maybe someday we'll take him...) and headed downtown.

When we arrived at the parking lot, the line was already long, there probably 300 people were waiting. Everyone was standing in the direct sunlight leaning against the walls of the building; it was a warm evening. We set up our tables and began filling cups with lemonade and iced tea, then as quickly as possible, we took the cups to the people standing in line.

It's a really strange feeling to have twenty grown men and women begging for you to give them one of three cups of iced tea in your hand. Humbling, really. (We're all just about two paychecks or a major disaster away from that happening to us, if you think about it.)

About halfway through the line, it wound around behind a very large, white 15 passenger van. I wasn't comfortable going back there because I was out of the direct line of sight of everyone we had come with, but I sucked it up and went behind the van to give lemonade to the men in line.

"Woah!" One of them yelled as I walked by. He sort of lurched in my direction but, fortunately, didn't actually touch me. He began yelling things like, "A Canadian! A beeee-yooou-tiiii-fullll one. Can I have a kiss?"

A Canadian? I thought to myself, Where is he getting that?

And then I remembered the t-shirt and began mentally kicking myself for wearing it. I handed the glasses of lemonade to some of the men and then started to make my way out from behind the van.

The man was still yelling. I was starting to get really embarrassed.

"Is the sun in your eyes? Can you see me" He asked, as I put my left hand up to shield my eyes from the sun which, in fact, was very bright.

"Oh!" He gasped as I raised my hand to my eyes. "A married Canadian!" Then he yelled, "Look at that big, sparkly diamond!"

I was horrified that I had forgotten to remove my jewelery; it seemed really insensitive to me. I brought my hand down from my eyes, turned my ring around and marched over to Joey. I pulled off my wedding ring, purity ring and watch and handed them to Joey.

"Put these in your pocket," I mumbled, feeling foolish for not having left them at home.

"Why?" He asked.

"That guy over there is hollering about how I have a big, sparkly diamond on my finger and it's making me feel bad." That, and I didn't want to get jumped for my ring the next time I went behind the van to distribute lemonade or iced tea.

Comparatively, my ring really isn't all that big. (It is sparkly, though, I'll give him that one.) But I suppose when you're homeless any diamond is considered big.

Fortunately that man seemed to forget about my ring, but he definitely did not forget about my t-shirt. I kept hearing "Canadian!" for the next 15-20 minutes. Until he found something else to holler about, that is.

I'm definitely not Canadian.

When we finally walked over to our car at 9:30, I was a little nervous because there were about 15 homeless people sitting around it. Instead of being intimidating, though, they chorused "thank you!" and "see you next Friday!" as we got into our car and pulled away.

Talk about being humbled.

I was very thankful for my soft bed, clean sheets and fresh water to drink as I was getting ready for bed later. I couldn't get the woman I had talked to out of my mind...she wasn't sure where they were going to sleep that night because they had just found out that they'd get arrested if they went to their usual spot.

And I worry about how high the thread count in my sheets is.