He had the saddest face, which was what drew me to him as I cast my eye over the Saturday afternoon crowd who were waiting as usual for us to get on with the feeding. His story was nothing unusual in itself. It's one that I have grown familiar with, serving on the streets...another drug junkie, ex jailbird, runaway from home...what else is new. I know I can't help any one of them, but like I said, he had the saddest face.
So after he spoke of a mother he had not seen in years, I decided to tell him some stories of my own. I told him of a day when there was nothing, and then God created everything. I took him back to Eden when God breathed His own breath into a lump of clay to create a most beautiful being in His own image , named him Adam ( derived from the Hebrew word for 'red' - the color of the earth from which he was made), gifted him with a most beautiful wo-man, and set them together for a most beautiful purpose; that they shall have dominion over all the earth. Of coz I had to tell him the sad story of how man messed up God's noble intent when he decided to go his own way, disobeying God's commandment not to eat of the (1 miserable) forbidden fruit, which consequence was the downfall of humankind throughout the ages, afflicting succeeding generations (as we are now) with a natural inherited inclination to sin. Then I told him the happy ending about the prodigal son whose sins were all forgotten by a loving father who had spent his days waiting to welcome him home. But before I could say more, I was called up to start the afternoon programme, which was rather special, because today it wasn't just the usual curry rice, teh tarik and bread.
Today everyone was eyeing the lorry that had drawn up into the alley grounds packed to the brim with hampers. Everybody was expecting a wind-fall, and thanks to a very generous donor, indeed everyone got one. But Mr. Saddest Face was different. He didn't seem interested in the freebies. That alone set him apart from the rest. Somewhere along the line, he had moved up from where I had left him earlier, and now he was sitting right by the speakers. I finished my job, sat down beside him and asked him what he really wanted. He looked down at his hands and said very softly, 'I want to live'. And he started talking about having sinned against his mother. Amazing, he had connected straightaway with the parable of the prodigal son I had told him earlier. And of coz, that was my cue to tell him the final - the greatest - love story of Jesus Christ, who had come to take away all our sin, to give life, abundant and everlasting, to all who would believe. By the time I finished praying with and for him, they were distributing the hampers and a very big ang-pow of $20. Even I got one. But my sad fren didn't even bother to open his ang-pow, he just let it lie loosely in his open palm and he tried to give mine back when I pressed it into his hand. Others would have grabbed the extra packet straight away. I told him to use the money to go home and say sorry to his mother. For good measure I warned him if he misused the money on drugs again, he would have to answer to God Himself. He shook his head vehemently and looked like he was going to cry.
Half my mind was thinking I must be crazy to give him some more money. He had just confessed he had his last fix this morning. But against my own rationale and better judgment, I had obeyed the inner voice that had suddenly told me to give it to him. God knows these people are perfectly capable of telling such affecting sob-stories and weeping oh-so-real crocodile tears that would bleed a heart more tender than mine. In all probability I will never know how he used the money literally dropped into his lap. Heck, in fact, I may never see him again. But this was one of those very rare occasions I had been stirred to give; I guess God honors a genuinely repentant heart straight away, unlike cynical old me. Will it last or is it just temporary guilt induced by a story which cut too close into his conscience?
I don't know. But that's not for me to worry about. I have done what I should and can do - brought a fellow human being to face the ugly truth about sin and the beauty of a compassionate merciful God, whose love and forgiveness could never be doubted, displayed as it was for all mankind, when Jesus stretched out His hands to be nailed to the cross. As I ended the story with the resurrection of Jesus Christ from death, I told my sad brother, he now has a reason to celebrate - because Jesus lives, he too can live in victory, because he chose to believe, for him, there's hope of a better tomorrow; the certainty of sins forgiven and the freedom of being made over into a new creation. He got what his heart wanted and needed after all. And the gift didn't come in a hamper or an ang-pow packet. It came in a Savior.
"He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world" - 1 John 2:2
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