This is so random. But this link brought me back to a very powerful moment in my life that only one other person I know witnessed or even knows about. I know very few people read this any more after my neglect and I secretly hope this is a memory saved just for me.

sharing food with a homeless man

I went to Vegas this summer. I believe in God but i struggle at times like any human.

If you've never been you should know. There are hundreds of homeless people. All in the worst shape you could imagine. And in the most sweltering conditions at times.

They line the streets of glitz and glamour as a reminder of the world that everyone wishes they could forget.

I went to breakfast with Artie and left a massive amount of nearly untouched food on my plate because I was still full from the night before. Gluttonous really.

I asked the waiter. "Can I ask you what might be a touchy subject?" He nodded. "Will the homeless take my leftovers if I offer them."

He looked at me straight in the eyes. "You won't know if you don't try."

So I packaged my food. It looked nearly brand new and all of it I gave was untouched.

And the waiter brought me utensils. Condiments. Napkins.

Because he knew where it was going.

I walked out of the bright casino to the scorching street with butterflies consuming my stomach.

What if they are insulted.

What if they spit on me.

I walked by one. I was too scared.

I walked by another. He looked young and well fed.

And I turned the corner to see an old frail man.

Would you like this for breakfast?

It isn't much I know.

But I want you to have it.

He looked at me.

His eyes grew two twice their size.

Either full of unwept tears or astonishment.

And he nodded.

And before i could muster the courage to say it.

He excitedly whispered.

May God bless you.

I walked away.

Artie knew it was coming because he grabbed my shoulder.

And I wept on our walk down Las Vegas blvd.