Yesterday was a big day. Huge. Monumental.

One of those … where shift happens. Or shit. Amazing what an “f” does to change a word, huh?

I suppose it was all aligned this way, starting with Ms.Ant and it was Gpa’s Birthday. I didn’t mention that yesterday, but it was.

I guess I didn’t want to mention it, even though it was constantly on my mind the entire day. How could it not be?

Brother and I both must have been feeling the vibes of avoidance, because as we started off on our walk, heading in the direction of his home, we both instinctively turned the other way to change our route.

Which was also meant to happen, had to have happened this way, because that’s when I saw him.

He was carrying a 12-pack of Mountain Dew in the left hand, the right, Coke. Holding that blind white cane stick in his hand made it difficult to balance the two. He knelt down, for what I first assumed, was to catch his breath.

He could hear us coming and turned to face us. I said hi, and asked him how he was. And you know what he said?

Guess what he said. I’ll give you a few seconds to think about it.

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I’ll tell you.

He said: I’m happy.

I felt hit head on by the power of his words. Like they were literally striking me down.

What the F could I possibly say in response to that?

Happy.

Could I say the same for myself? And was I … happy?

And if I was, then what was this sudden heaviness … why did I feel like I could have burst into uncontrollable tears?

The only thing I could think to say in response was what I was thinking: That is awesome to hear.

Because it was and it is … hearing how happy anyone is.

Brother and I continued a few hundred feet when I stopped to look back at him. He was still there, crouched down. Not to rest, but to listen for oncoming traffic so he knew when or when not to cross the street.

I turned around and went back to him and asked if I could help. I don’t think he needed my help at all, but I think he thought the offer was kind.

So I told him when it was safe to cross, and off he went … hauling ass across the street, which also surprised me. Man could move! He hollered his thanks, and was gone.

Where to?

Who does he live with? What does he do?

And how the hell is he so god damn happy?

I was distraught over this … happiness thing. Here was someone who has no sight, who is perfectly happy and able.

Who am I to wallow in any self pity of any sort?

It wasn’t that I felt bad or sorry for him. Not at all. On the contrary, it was me … me I felt sorry for,  for even feeling sorry at all to begin with … for some minor {in the scheme of things} reason that I wasn’t even completely sure of.

Know what I mean?

Brother and I were equally in awe of Mr. Blind. And for the marvelous teacher he was for us … what a messenger.

Later on in the evening, on our way to meet up with The BF and some friends for dinner, Brother got his Krogering beer run on, while I got gas.

As I’m standing in line, waiting to pre-pay, a man walks up to me and asks me if he can ask me something.

Me: Sure, what do you want to ask?

Random Guy: Do you have any change I could please have?

I felt the tension immediately at his question. Why is this, this reaction? I know it’s not just me, because I think a lot of us have this response … which is usually followed by mumbling some excuse of “no” or trying to blow the person off.

I wanted to do this. I looked at him and wished he would just go away. But something in me made me look, as in truly look at him, as a person.

It was obvious he didn’t have much. It wasn’t just the old, ripped clothes … it was the dirt under his fingernails and those worn, deep lines and wrinkles on his face.

I thought … what if that was Brother, or TC, or someone I loved … or even me … what if I needed help. How hard it must be to reach out like that and ask for money. How desperate he must feel and how challenging that is.

He was just another person, not some homeless or some down n out type … a human being in need of another human being. In need of a yes and not a no.

How many others have asked me for help that I’ve turned away or completely ignored? Too many to even begin to count. And that’s when I felt a little breaking and opening of my heart, some piece of it that started to ache for all people in difficult situations who just need a little help and love. That’s why, I realized, it starts now. With me. This change and this help.

I did what I don’t usually do and said yes. Yes, I will give you change.

And in that yes, was so much more, because it was me saying that I was taking a chance on him. Not to believe the worst — that he might go buy drugs or alcohol, but that I care and I trust you. I will help you.

I gave him $5. What was $5 to me? Nothing. Nothing I’ll miss or that I need. But all I could think was what that might mean to this man.

Could that be what turns it around for him? Did he just need one person to say yes to give him hope?

Why don’t we all start saying yes more?

Let’s stop being afraid and start treating everyone like they matter, because they do and in this we can remind each other that we belong … to one another.

We aren’t separate. We’re together.