My sister and I were singing loudly, “Hello my name is Child of the one true king!” as we made our way to Joes’ Crab Shack for lunch.*

We were joking as we got out of the car to walk into Joe’s. But then ahead of us, there was a lady in a red coat standing still. She was a little older and holding — preciously — something in her hands.

As we neared, she turned and came up to us. She didn’t speak. She just held out her hands that held a crumpled letter. It read in red letters, “Do you have four dollars that you could give me?”

I don’t remember the rest of what it said, but suddenly realizing she probably was illiterate or bashful — or ashamed — it didn’t come about her being poor, rather than her spirit being rich.

Hey eyes were crinkled, and almost pleading. Her spirit was naked, just as much as her hands were. But there was something about her eyes that held a certain wisdom that got me wondering where and how she got to be where she was.

Knowing I didn’t have a dollar on me, I still fumbled through my purse, already knowing my sister had money on her and would give her the four dollars. My sister somehow had only three dollars and enough change to make exactly four dollars to give her; the woman looked at both of us, and did something we weren’t expecting. She didn’t speak, but put her two fingers to her lips and signed thank you while her mute voice made an odd sound.

My sister and I couldn’t question her genuineness; it certainly wasn’t our place to. It was our place to give what we had. Or what my sister had. I apparently had a squished strawberry Special K Bar.   

A couple of days prior, we were driving through downtown Denver, when I saw a man and a woman, dressed in business attire about to enter a high-class restaurant, when an elderly man came up to them, asking for money. The woman literally scurried away from him, almost as if she were scared to be touched by him, and shook her head, while the man followed suit as he quickly opened the door to the restaurant for the woman.

My point being, it is our not our job to judge whether the less fortunate are being truthful or merely just want money. It is not our place to say, “Well, if they can walk here, then they can walk to get a job.”

We will never know someone’s story, and we will also never know if everyone we meet is genuine.

But this is where faith walks in. This is where the song we sing by Matthew West sings loudly in our souls. Where being children of God, becomes so much more than a sweet monetary moment; it becomes about showing the love of Christ in any moment you can.

My sister and I walked in to Joe’s; and something told me to look up, and there was an elderly man, wearing a plaid wrinkled shirt with glasses brimming his nose, who grinned at us, and then resumed eating his seafood. Perhaps, he saw us from inside.

My sister looked through the window, and told me she saw the lady board the transit bus.

“One man gives freely, yet gains even more; another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty.” —Proverbs 11:24

It truly is a blessing to give than to receive. Yes, it was only four dollars, but I’m merely talking about the power we have through Jesus Christ, to be obedient when He asks of something, even if it’s four dollars.

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” —Matthew 25:40

 

*This article was originally written/published by the author under the title “Giving a Little.”