A bottled water for homeless Francis

I named the man on the corner of my regular highway exit Francis. I have a few people in my life I’ve named Francis, for different reasons. This Francis is homeless, but not full of joy and trust in the providence of God as Saint Francis of Assisi.

This Francis, usually dressed in a coat and winter hat regardless of the weather, has a way of looking intently at you while also seeming like he isn’t present at all. He’s insistent when he approaches my car. He keeps looking until I look at him. He licks his lips when he looks at me. It makes me uncomfortable.

I don’t usually have cash. So, I made a point to buy – with my credit card – some bottled water and snacks for the homeless people I see now that I regularly drive into Austin. Francis has accepted the water, chugging it immediately and throwing the bottles into the street. I offered him food once, but he thundered, “I told you I don’t want that stuff!” I had the sense he wasn’t yelling to me, but someone else entirely.

I was hurt, though. I mean, I can’t expect everyone to be grateful. Maybe he didn’t like what I was offering. Or maybe he wants cash to buy something that isn’t food. He has a right to not accept. But I didn’t want to be yelled at. The next time I saw him, I didn’t look. I tried really hard to keep looking forward. The light turned green, and I felt smug for a moment. And then I felt guilty, driving off in my car that has a sticker on the back that says, “Catholic.” Catholic doesn’t mean I’m better than others. It means I’m their servant.

“Jesus, I don’t know what to do with Francis. He scares me,” I prayed. I’m always praying when I see Francis. My routine has me there in the three o’clock hour, and I have a habit of praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet.

I felt in my heart that Jesus responded: “Think of Him as me. When you serve Him, you serve me.”

Right. Matthew 25.

So, I got more bottles of water. The next time he was outside my car, I rolled down the window. “Do you want some water?” I asked. He didn’t respond with words as he took the water from me.

The light turned green. “For love of you, Jesus. For love of you.” God bless Francis, who I named for the saint who didn’t want to kiss a leper, but found it was Jesus.

Matthew 25:37-40 ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’