Helping Handout

Sometimes things happen in places that you would least expect. Sometimes they happen exactly where they are supposed to happen. And sometimes they happen just the way they were planned.

Every week I spend an hour in prayer in our church’s Eucharistic Adoration Chapel. The one hour of usually uninterrupted quiet is very precious to me. I use the time to read scripture and reflect and to pray. I usually write my prayers in a prayer journal. I find that I need the discipline of writing to focus in totally unstructured time.

Tonight I was halfway through my hour when a strange man joined me in the chapel. This happens occasionally as people drop in to pray. I could tell as soon as he entered that this man was not interested in prayer.

He walked with a cane and was obviously disabled. Even so he removed his show and sock to prove it to me. He said he was looking for Fr. B. Father, he said, had been a good friend of his for over fifteen years. In a span of less than ten minutes he managed to tell me his life story. Well, not his life story but certainly his current situation. He was hit by a car going 55 miles an hour. He spent three months in the hospital, during which time Fr. B. visited him every week.

At the time of the accident, his wife went through the windshield and lost their unborn child. She’s currently serving a two-year prison sentence for reckless child endangerment. She gets out in October.

Tim, the name he gave me, said Fr. B. bought him a car for $5,000. He was looking for Fr. B. because he needed $30 to replace his flat tire. Father manages his checking account (Tim receives $637 a month in disability). He seemed desperate and in a hurry. When I asked if I could do anything to help, he gladly took the $22 I offered that I had in my purse. He said that Father doesn’t like for him to ask parishioners for help (apparently he has done this before), but what else could he do when Father isn’t available?

What else could I do? Sitting before the exposed body of Christ, I didn’t hesitate to offer him help. The Bible says “Whatsoever you do for the least of my brothers.” Or maybe that’s the song lyric based on the Bible passage. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been played.

Then I thought about security. Can anyone walk in here and ask for money? There’s a keypad lock on the outside door, but it’s rarely locked when I enter. Should it be locked more often to keep those of us praying inside safe from those who need prayers (and other things)? If one is looking for a handout, isn't a church a great place to solicit?

It felt good to help Tim, but had I done the right thing? At first glance the situation sounds so simple. He needed money and I had it to give. But did I really help by giving him money? Is it better to give money to organizations that help the poor and hope that the right people get the money? Does it matter if he didn’t really need the money for a tire, or does it only matter that I offered help? Why are the simple things so complicated?

When Tim left he asked me to pray for him. I took that as a good sign.