“There, but for the Grace of God, go I.” - - John Bradford 1555 AD
Roberto DeVincenzo, perhaps Argentina’s greatest golfer, having just won another tournament smiled for the cameras and ducked into the clubhouse. His career was on fire! Pocketing his sizeable winnings, he slipped on his Rolex and walked alone to his car.
Her sun bleached-hair and deeply grooved complexion exposed age much older than her years. He’d seen many panhandlers on the streets of Buenos Aires. Most were either scammers or criminals. Stay alert for suspicious looking people and you're less likely to be a victim, he told himself. Safer to move on . . . but not this time.
Glancing through the windshield he just couldn’t dismiss the woman wearing too many clothes for the weather. DeVincenzo motioned for her to come closer. “How ya doin’?” he asked.
“Things could be worse,” she responded humbly. “I get by with help from strangers,” she added with hopeful eyes. “It gets me through the tough times.”
Suddenly she’s no longer a beggar, but a mother struggling to feed her children. There’s no bitterness for the circumstances that have forced her into this demeaning position, no resentment against those who look down upon her or deny her existence. Her toothless smile revealed a beauty that comes only from within; one that outshined her shabby circumstances.
DeVincenzo took out a pen and endorsed his winning check to the woman. "Make some good days for your baby," he said as he pressed the check into her hand.
Later that week while dining with friends, a PGA official approached his table. "Some of guys told me you met a young woman after winning that tournament." DeVincenzo nodded.
"Well," smirked the official, "I’ve got bad news. She’s a phony; she doesn’t even have any children. She fleeced you, my friend."
"You mean there’s no sick child?" questioned DeVincenzo. "Well! That’s the best news I’ve heard all week!"
He’d been swindled; it’s happened to us all. And even though the disheveled person may not be telling the truth, it’s not our place to judge. We only go from day to day, moment to moment, by the grace of our God. Thank God that none of your family ever had to live such a life. Some strangers who beg on the street may be dishonest, but they’re in a way, still in poverty - lacking integrity and needing grace. Never let frauds keep you from giving or forgiving. Our judgments judge us.
Jesus, if You walked the streets today, You’d certainly spend time with beggars speaking with, healing and helping them. Today, use me and the brutality of life to bring the broken to You. Amen
