The Christmas Bum

When our kids were little, we lived in Washington DC. For twelve years, we'd pack all five of us and our two weeks worth of Christmas luggage in anticipation of our trip to Colorado to celebrate Christmas. The first year, we booked travel on Northwest Airlines from DC Regan through Detroit or Minneapolis. It was a staggering $589 for all of us to travel, round trip. For the next 5 years without fail, we'd have a 2-4 hour delay, miss the connection and get vouchers for 5 more round-trip tickets from sympathetic gate agents. No really, they actually existed back in the 1900's. The reoccurring punishment wasn't worth it at the time, but by the very next trip, we'd forgotten all about the screaming, snot and vomit and happily began the terrifying journey all over again. 

Except for 1991. That was the one year we stayed in Washington DC. We were living on Benton Street, right off Massachusetts Ave in Georgetown. It was a magical time in our faith journey. We'd found a small group of people who were actually trying their best to live their lives as genuine, first century Christians. Now, that's kind of a loaded statement, considering those guys were boiled in oil and fed to lions and stuff. 

But still, we tried.

One Sunday, around Thanksgiving, I walked out of the JW Marriott on 1331 Pennsylvania Ave, where we met for church service, and onto Freedom Plaza. The base of Freedom Plaza features a massive engraved granite map of the District. On my right was the White House. In front of me was the Washington Monument and all of the museums on the mall. Looking to my left, down Pennsylvania Avenue, stood the nations capitol. It still gives me goosebumps. I felt very small and very grateful. That's when Marty approached me. He was a bum.

Marty, looked a lot like Doc Brown, the mad scientist in 'Back to the Future'. He asked for a dollar. Instead he got a fiver and I got an hour long conversation. Normally, I don't engage with bums. Wait. That's not true. My whole family and all my friends are bums. Not all my co-workers though. Only my favorites.

As it turned out Marty was at one point in a past life, a professor and an attorney. I'm not making this up. This dirty bum had forgotten more about the politics of DC, the upcoming Iraq war, the founding fathers, the economy, music, art and every other subject we covered in that hour, than I'd ever learned. 

I invited him to church the following and he declined, but said he'd be right here on this spot, if I wanted to buy him a sandwich. The next week, I walked out of the JW and across the street. As I climbed up onto the Plaza, to my surprise, standing on the exact same spot of the map there on the corner 12th NW and Constitution, stood Marty. He was dressed in the same clothes and smelled exactly the same, except with a little more diameter. We walked across the Plaza and went into the old Post Office Tower building where there was a food court. I bought him lunch. He wasn't shy about ordering and I didn't mind. 

After lunch, I conferred with my wife about my new friend. Naturally she was concerned. About me. We had decided a few weeks prior that we couldn't afford the trip home. I'd just taken a new job at a 50% pay cut and no work meant no pay. My days as an aerospace job shopper and the accompanying big bucks with time and a half for overtime, were over. The next week, she came out and met Marty. Just like clockwork, he was standing in the same spot. Together, maybe even at her suggestion, we invited him over for a dinner. We gave him our real address and a time. 6pm. He didn't write it down. Maybe we secretly hoped he wouldn't show. 

Lesa roasted a chicken, and whipped up a fantastic dinner mid-week. As you might have guessed, He showed up. At 5:59:59pm, our doorbell rang. There was Marty and the diameter had yet increased even further. Lesa suggested a bath and he welcomed the suggestion. He soaked in hot water and Epsom salts for about an hour and a half. During that time, she washed and dried all of his clothes. We had a long dinner and I got the feeling he didn't want to leave. I was right. At that point he began to beg us to let him stay, proposing he'd be our babysitter and do household chores and be no nuisance at all. 

Life's funny. You can try to do good in the world and do a lot. You might even wear yourself out doing everything you can for the unborn, the environment, animals or the homeless and still feel guilty. I'm not here to tell you, one way or the other how you should feel. That's a job for politicians and preachers, so choose wisely.

What I am here to tell you is that you should wake up every day and try to be thankful for who you are, for what you have and then consider how to use it to try to make the world a better place. Just for today.

The book of Hebrews tells me I wasn’t worthy to have Marty the bum in my home. I see people differently today because of him yesterday. As Jesus instructs us in Matthew 6:34. Let tomorrow worry about itself.