For years, I have seen a young man hanging around my local supermarket. He’s a big guy and he seemed like some panhandler to me. I also thought him a bit sneaky. He was scared of me because I made sure of it. Lots of people are scared of me because I made sure they were.

It’s almost funny. I’ve seen women cross the street to pass me on the other side. Men ignore me which is even better. They count me as non-threatening. That’s a mistake that has always worked for me.

Until I didn’t want it anymore.

I changed.

Finally, today I saw Travis and waved in greeting.

He walked toward me. I had been menacing for so long that he couldn’t figure out how I knew his name.

Ten years, it’s been. Ten years. I counted him beneath me. That’s a grave sin. There is no excuse for it.

In just a few minutes of sitting together on a bench, enjoying the sunshine, I learned that he’s got speech and other problems. He’s slow, painfully so. He’s lost most of his family and has his mother and one brother left. I think he wanders the shopping center because he tests his mother’s patience. She shoos him out. I’ve seen him standing in the bitter cold with no appropriate cold weather gear. This guy has the mind of a boy.

Today I learned another harsh lesson about judging others, being cruel and how to handle grief. After losing a loved one, if you must blame yourself even a little though others assure you it wasn’t about you, I have a solution.

Help others.

Today, Travis made a new friend who will have his back, pray for him and who will never scare him again.

And me?

I feel better.