Spare Change

Underneath the facade of southern charm and hospitality, is a cold true face of cruelty. I knew nothing of giving to the less fortunate and was raised to think that anyone who was homeless was probably rich but miserly. I grew up in Savannah Georgia, where history and art were painted nearly on every corner of the downtown strip. I was twenty-four at the time, and I had lived my whole life working for the things that I’d gotten. I worked for a quaint little Japanese fast-food restaurant that had opened a smaller subsidiary for the incoming flow of the downtown tourist traffic. We were one street away from the river, and when it was quiet, you could hear the slow waters of the Savannah River and the tugboats putting along. The night was slower than most, save a Caucasian woman with a bag over her foot, and a smell that damn near reduced you to tears, but I had smelled worse. She hobbled in quietly despite the stares and shyly approached my register with a pitiful expression on her face. She gave a glance to the line behind her and smiled politely to the young couple behind her before turning to me again.

“How much is it for a cup of water?”

Toshi, my boss, had a camera above the register, if I didn’t get something from her, he’d sooner have me in court for theft, even over fifty cents.

“Fifty-cents ma’am.” I replied with a polite smile.

She fished in her pockets for what seemed like forever and then realized she had a dollar instead. The realization brought a brighter smile on her face and she held it out to me. “How much is a small cup of soup?”

At my restaurant, we did miso soup, but normally when you asked for soup, we would ask you if you meant ramen, because that’s what everyone wanted. I knew at the time, that she didn’t have enough for Ramen and the Miso soup was at least 3 dollars. With a frown I told her so, and she settled with the cup of water, choosing to go sit off into the far corner where no one could see her. Once I had cleared my line, I went to my own purse to see if I had any spare change. I too understood what it was like to not have money for food, I had been living with my boyfriend and it was the first time I was out on my own. We had nothing to eat most days save the dollar pot pies.

Finding 5 dollars, I began to make her a simple chicken teriyaki bowl, I wanted to add shrimp, but we had none, and I was pushing my luck anyway. Ringing up the order that I had made for her, an older fellow, approached me with another bowl that he had ordered, and handed me forty dollars, “Is that for her?”

I nodded quietly. He gave a shrug, “Well, add that and this bowl to the order, and give her the remaining change. He was clearly from out of town with Georgia shirt with the Savannah bridge and the river printed so obnoxiously on the front. I did as he asked and took a moment off the line to watch as people ignored the homeless woman as she quietly filled herself of water.

“Ma’am?”

She was confused as I laid her food out in front of her, complete with a bigger cup for her to enjoy soda at the very least if she’d wanted. I explained to her and found myself in tears as she’d told me that she hadn’t eaten in days. She had gotten stuck in my town and from there she found herself homeless. As she thanked me profusely, I gave her the change that had been left for her and pointed out the male that had given it to her.

Of course, I couldn’t meander long enough to enjoy the heartwarming feelings brought upon this simple act of human kindness, but from my register, I watched as he invited her to sit with his family, and they all chatted amicably, and before he left her, he hugged her and wished her well.

It has been almost 7 years since that day. I find myself giving whenever I can, however I can. I never ask how they get to the place that they are now, I just know that like that woman, they wanted someone to care for them. I often think about that woman, and where she is, and if she’s in a better place. If she had gotten back to where she belonged with people who loved her. I try to be kinder knowing that if I should end up in her shoes, I would want someone to do the very same for me.