The Least of Men

(I have never shared this story with anyone other than family, nor have I written about it other than a short poetic piece. I shared my experience primarily with my father when he was battling cancer in his last days. It was an intimate moment for us both as God slowly began to reveal His face to us in different ways. I will always cherish that tender moment with my father. I invite you to read on.)

I can still see his face. I can still envision those sad, yet curious eyes gazing upon me as I stood smiling at him. We stood at the intersection of A Street and Front Street, the same place I would always find him. I still remember the gentle sound of his voice, the innocent nature of his being, the beauty of his heart, the look of fear and hope wrapped up into one stare. I still remember the way his worn hands felt as I took them into mine. He looked at me with great anticipation as he waited to find out what I would say next. There we stood on the street corner...

Several weeks prior, I met him for the first time. His name was Martin. I was on my lunch break enjoying a fruit smoothie, high heels clicking and on my way back to the high rise on Columbia Street. It seemed like any other day in San Diego - 75 degrees, exquisite sunshine, a cruise ship or two in the bay and undoubtedly, fabulous weekend plans were in my near future. Yes, it seemed to be just another ordinary day in paradise. Little did I realize, my world would soon change in ways I never could imagine. Just as I hurried through the crosswalk, I saw him sitting there. He was resting between a trashcan and a lamp post, just in front of a large potted shrub. When my eyes first found him, he was staring at the ground - most likely hoping for a passerby to drop any amount of change on the unfriendly sidewalk. At that moment, I suddenly felt an undeniable, relentless urge that I cannot begin to explain through mere words. It was an incredible feeling that twisted my heart into a complete knot. I took a moment to absorb the scene around me before making a move. Then, I reached into my wallet, pulled out my remaining cash and bent down towards Martin holding out the money. He lifted his face, the sunlight hitting his eyes as he squinted and barely spoke a sincere "thank you, ma'am." I hurried on my way, wiping tears and trying to regain composure until I reached my building.

Several days had passed and I was on the familiar stretch of sidewalk between my office and one of my favorite sandwich shops, only this time I drove. As I sat in my Honda Accord waiting for the light to turn green, I casually tapped the steering wheel while listening to the radio. It was a fantastic day! Before the light changed, my eyes skimmed over a figure stooping beside the trashcan. It was Martin -and this time he held a sign that said "I am hungry." Before I even had time to think, I was crying and frantically merging into the right lane so I could loop back to the sandwich shop. That day, Martin received a roast beef sandwich and vegetable soup for lunch.

....There we stood on the street corner, and the lunch hour was in full force. People were rushing by and I was, no doubt, receiving several unapproving glances.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Martin," he whispered.
I unabashedly took his hand and ushered him to a nearby table.
"May I please have a hug?" I asked in earnest.
He quickly answered, "I probably don't smell too good."
"I surely don't care about that," I replied.

After a five second embrace, we sat down at the table. Seagulls scattered into the air as we took over their territory. I set my purse to the side and leaned forward.

"Martin, do you know Jesus?" I inquired as I put my hand over his.
"I've heard of him once before," he answered with increasing curiosity.
"Martin, Jesus loves you so much - so much - that He died for you. He was God's Son....fully God, yet fully man.....and He paid the penalty for our sins so we can live in heaven forever. He died, but then He rose back to life three days later. And He still lives. And He loves you. And He can be your Savior if you ask Him."
We sat in silence and Martin thought about this for awhile as he continued to hold my hand.
"Martin, can I pray with you?" I urged.
"Yes", he whispered.

For several months, I purposely took the same route home each day. I prayed for the traffic light to be red and always had my wallet close by. I don't remember how many times I had the pleasure of summoning Martin to my car, but it happened the same way each time....quick hand-off before the light turned green, a quick "God bless you", and a lump in my throat the entire way home.

The last time I saw Martin was the day before Thanksgiving, November of 2006. I was on my way home to enjoy time off with my children and Jose, who was my boyfriend at the time. There was always a good chance I would see Martin and being prepared on this day was certainly no exception. Sure enough, I saw Martin standing on the corner. It was the Thanksgiving holiday, my heart was overwhelmed with gratitude and I remember giving him double what I normally did. The entire way home, I thought about turning around. A big part of me wanted to invite him to my house for Thanksgiving, but I never turned around to go ask him.....
and I never saw Martin again.

I still think about him to this day. I wonder what has become of dear Martin. Is he eating? Is he in good health? Did he realize I loved him? Is he.... alive? My heart aches at times and I long to be on the corner of A Street and Front Street once again so I can find my friend. I long to take him a Bible. I long to find out if our conversation led him to a relationship with Jesus. I may never find out the answer & I may be left to wonder for years and years to come, but there is nothing I would trade for the precious time spent with my San Diego friend.

Indeed, there is nothing on earth I would trade for having my heart broken for Martin - for even though he was the least of men in the world's eyes, he was so much more to Jesus...
He was so much more to me.


What breaks your heart?
What makes you cry?
What would I see if I looked through your eyes?
I want to grow closer and closer to you
Til what breaks your heart will break mine too.
-Scott Krippayne