The Things I Know For Sure.
By: Giulia Grotenhuis
Tags: Homelessness, Giving, Life

I want you to know that I see you. Not only do I see you, but I observe you. I process what I see and make a decision. It’s not a judgment though, for who am I anyway. To do that would be to think more of myself than of you, and I don’t know you.

I observe you standing there in the hot and the cold. I’ve even seen you struggle to stand up, as your legs wobble and you try to pull yourself up with your walking cane. Your hair has gotten longer and more gray.

Over the course of a few years I’ve seen that you have gotten less steady. Are you faking it? You might be, but I don’t know for sure. I do know that I have seen you walking with your cane, slowly, from the bottom of the hill, to your normal spot just before I turn onto 395. That’s a long walk. Surely if you were faking it, you would not be putting on such a long performance for people driving by so quickly. Does an actor perform on their way to the stage?

Like clockwork I put on my left turn single to purposely position myself closer to the median. The first few times I drove by, I stayed clear of that lane, because I didn’t want to make eye contact with you, or the others. Now I hope for the traffic to be slow so you have time to put your cup out to me, and I don’t alienate the driver behind me by coming to a near stop. There is never enough time for me to chat with you. If I could, I would tell you I love how your face lights up when you see me, and your eyes almost dance with excitement.

I can hear my husband saying, “he’s only going to spend it on alcohol.” I silence him with my crazy brand of logic. I explain how even if he were one of those guys you hear about that pull in thousands, if not millions, he’s probably very philanthropic. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s an angel testing me. Either way, I would rather err on the side of being a total dupe. Fred smiles and says, “You’re crazy.” I reply, “That may be, but you’re the one that married me.”

I normally take a different route home, but today I end up on this road. It’s 5:30pm and you are still standing there. I’m impressed. But the traffic flows pretty steadily in this direction, so crossing two lanes and stopping is not a safe option.

Coming up to the light a few blocks up I see another person like you, and he is able to walk in between the lanes. I try not to make eye contact and for a few seconds I consider just driving by. But instead I find my change purse to see what I have to offer. I try to be discrete because if I don’t have anything to offer I don’t want him to be disappointed.

I quickly rifle through and find a ten and a one. The thought crosses my mind that I don’t want to part with the ten. I hesitate. What’s it gonna be? The light is going to change. Think. Think. Well, I know for sure, he’s going to be happy with anything I give him.

So I give him the ten. Because I know for sure, when I go to spend that ten — probably at the liquor store myself — I’m going to regret my decision.

Again, I hear my husband. So I say to the man, “You are going to get some food with that, right?” He pointed directly across the street and said, “I’m going to the McDonalds, as God is my witness.” But do I know for sure? All I know is the man looked me in the eye as he said it.

These are the things I know for sure.