I was just a freshman in college when I sat down to dinner and the man who sat next to me changed my life. His name was Ron.
I was at Agape Meal, a weekly meal provided to the homeless in Fort Worth. The meal was not your typical soup-kitchen experience. The dining room was set up for family style meals. Tables were covered with tablecloths and real dishes. Large dishes of food were brought out to each table. Volunteers either served the food or joined a table for dinner. I really wanted to serve food, keeping myself at a distance and staying in my comfort zone. But I was compelled to sit.
Ron sat down next to me. Over the course of dinner, he shared his life story with me. The next week, I went back and Ron sought me out with a big smile and a hug. This went on for weeks as I learned more of his story and his dreams. He slowly broke down many of my stereotypes of the homeless. He challenged me and encouraged me. Over time, life got busy and I stopped going to Agape Meal. But the experience never left my mind and each Thursday night I remembered. A year later, I went back. I was sitting at the table meeting new people, learning new stories. A volunteer asked if I wanted more water, I nodded, and then did a double take. It was Ron. That same smile appeared on his face. That night he updated me on his life, and how he was working, had a place to live, and came back to serve others.
Ron made a difference in my life because he challenged my perceptions of the homeless. He made a difference because he was willing to teach me. He made a difference because one meal a week meant the world to him. He knew he was loved, he was offered grace, and he didn’t lose his dignity in the process.
(#1 in a series about homelessness in preparation for Night In A Box)
