Friday, April 09, 2010

The Man at My Front Door

Yesterday afternoon, as I sat reading, my doorbell rang.  When I looked to the door to ascertain who was interrupting my enjoyment, and to determine if I was indeed going respond, I noted an older black man standing, patiently.  I had seen him before, so I went to the door.

When I opened the door to greet this man, the first words he spoke were, “Do you remember me?”  Indeed I did, and I said to him, “Yes, you’re the man who knocked at my door last Fall, and asked if you could rake my lawn.”  Which he did, earning ten dollars for twenty minutes work well done.

“Yes,” the man said, tenatively smiling.  As I smiled back at this man, he politely asked if I had any small jobs he could perform for me.  I replied, “I’m sorry, I really don’t have any work you can do for me right at the moment,” because I truly did not.

This man then said to me, “Are you sure?  Can I do some edging, or pickup those sticks laying around, I’ll do anything.”  “I need $2.50 for bus fare, so I can go see about a job.”  Again this man said to me, “Are you sure you don’t have some small job I can do?”

I had to inform the man, “I’m sorry, but no, I don’t have any work you can do,” but I reached into my pocket and peeled three dollars off my money clip and said, “Here, take this,” reaching out my hand with the cash.

The man looked directly at me, but did not reach out to take the cash, and said, “Are you sure?”  I said, “Yes, I’m sure,” as I waggled the cash in my hand at his chest.  The man then tentatively reached out his right hand and took the three dollars, saying to me “Thank you, thank you,”  to which I replied, “Good luck,” and off my front porch he went, walking down the street towards the bus line, and I returned to my reading.

I thought nothing more of this incident, after returning to my reading.  I did not feel gracious, altruistic, or magnanimous after this encounter, it seemed simply an event wherein a man came looking for work, so he could earn a bus fare to pursue more permanent work, when I had none available.  End of story.  Or so I thought.

Last night, around 8 P.M., as the lovely Melis and I sat watching a cooking show and enjoying a cocktail, the front doorbell again rings.  Melis says to me, “Aren’t you going to answer the door?,” as I appear not to be interested in whoever may be calling.  I reply, “Yeah, I’ll see who’s there,” and head for the door.  It’s the man from last Fall, and this afternoon, once again standing at my door.

I’m a bit annoyed by this, thinking, okay, this guy thinks I’m a soft touch, now, having employed him in the Fall, and not six hours ago having handed him three bucks for bus fare without requiring anything from him in return.  I’m going to have to be stern with the man, drive him away once and for all.

I open the front door, poke my head out, and before I can surlily greet this man, he blurts out, “I got the job.”  I say “Great, glad to hear it,” reaching out my hand to shake his proffered hand.  The man seems geniunely pleased.  I’m still somewhat annoyed by his intrusion, but as I am shaking his hand this man says to me, “When I get my first paycheck, I’ll pay you back your three dollars.”  Now I am humbled, and say to the man, “Don’t worry about the three bucks, I’m glad it helped get you to where you needed to be.”

The man then says to me, “Are you sure?  I’ll pay you back.”  I tell the man, “Yes, I’m sure,” and also say, “I think those three bucks were a good investment, and besides, you put that money to better work than I would have.”

The man then shakes my hand again, says “Bless you,” and off he goes down the street, again, towards the bus line.

I wish I would have asked this man his name, and hope that he knocks at my front door once again in the future, though I desire that he not need to.

Posted by John Venlet on 04/09 at 06:50 AM
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