From the Farm to the Big City

We ain’t on the farm anymore.  I am in Atlanta this weekend.  Let me mention, downtown Atlanta.  It is a town that ironically suffered a tornado that ripped through downtown.  It is very strange to see huge buildings with thick glass windows broken out.  The cab drivers tell us the story as we talk to them.  I get to sit in the front seat most of the time.

Last night we went out to eat in downtown Atlanta and some guy comes up to me.  This doesn’t usually affect me, but the cab driver that drove us there said, “I am not going to lie, that would be dishonest, but, at night, this is a dangerous town.”  I fancy myself to be a down home all around likable guy but as you can imagine, this guy was nothing like me.  I would lie if I told you that I was a little nervous, but not scared.  I would have been scared had there been more like him around.  He told me he was homeless and asked if I could give him some change.  When people come to me in a situation like this, I usually don’t plop down money right away, but rather get into their life and head and find out what is really going on.  I would rather fix the real problems than just give them some money, pay them off to just go away.

It was an interesting experience, but I gave him some money, got in the cab with the group, and drove away.  I had a good friend and mentor once tell me, “Steve, you can’t fix the world”.  No, I can’t, but I can make a difference.  Gotta go make a difference again today!

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One response to “From the Farm to the Big City

  1. In our small town we had a homeless man (unless you call a tent by the railroad tracks a home) who spent his days for a while on a bench in front of our busiest grocery store. I figured he was to all, like to me, a familiar but nameless person. On a Sunday night at church I mentioned him and the fact that if Jesus was in town, Jesus would know his name. My at the time teenage son shouted out the man’s name.
    I have not been in Atlanta in a long time, but once enjoyed a downtown meal at PittyPat’s Porch.
    C3

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