Joseph and the Gentle Giant

 

Joseph and the Gentle Giant

 By Kim Michael                                                                                           

He was late.  Jim had been in meetings all morning and his last meeting at the main campus of the hospital ran over, putting him on a dead run back to his office six blocks away.      

 

Now I have to preface this story by telling you that the Jim in this story is a friend of mine, a gentle giant. Maybe six five.  When I first met him, he probably weighed close to three hundred pounds and not an “obese” three hundred pounds, but a “big” three hundred pounds--like a line-backer.  Add to that that he’d once been a state trooper in Maine until he got the highest grade on a civil service exam in Massachusetts which landed him a job in hospital administration, which he freely admits he had absolutely no background in.  And yet, in a few short years, he had become one of the most highly respected patient accounts directors in the state-- and now he is terribly late for his next meeting--an important meeting that he can’t miss.

 

It was almost noon when he finally parked his car in the parking deck, rushed down the stairs to the sidewalk below, and then across the street to the ten story office complex where his office was located.    

 

That’s when Jim sees the homeless man sitting on the curb.  He glances at him for only a second as he passes, but before he pushes through the office building door, he pauses to see his own reflection in the glass...and then the reflection of the homeless man sitting on the curb in the distance.  

 

Then he looks down at his watch.  He’s terribly late, but instead of going in, he slowly turns back to the sidewalk, walks across the street to a restaurant and buys two sandwiches.  And then on a warm summer afternoon, in his suite and tie, Jim comes back to where the homeless man is sitting, sits down on the curb beside him, and hands him one of the sandwiches.      

 

The homeless man’s name was Joseph.  Jim never told me his last name, and I suspect he didn’t know it himself.  He didn’t have to.  He knew everything he needed to know.  They sat there on the curb and watched the cars pass by, people streaming around them as they went to lunch and came back from lunch. 

 

And I suspect in all the time they sat there, Joseph never knew that the man who had bought him a sandwich, was also a Catholic Priest.   It was’t important for Jim to tell him and it wasn’t important for Joseph to know.  Sometimes the only thing that is really important is just sitting on a curb and eating a sandwich with someone...even when you’re late.