The Tattooed Stranger

[Guest guest]

Tattooed Stranger, The

by: Fahncke, , Heartwarmers4u

He was kind of scary.

He sat there on the grass with his cardboard sign, his dog (actually

his dog was adorable) and tattoos running up and down both arms and

even on his neck. His sign proclaimed him to be " stuck and hungry " and

to please help.

I'm a sucker for anyone needing help. My husband both hates and loves

this quality in me.

I pulled the van over and in my rear-view mirror, contemplated this

man, tattoos and all. He was youngish, maybe forty. He wore one of

those bandannas tied over his head, biker/pirate style. Anyone could

see he was dirty and had a scraggly beard. But if you looked closer,

you could see that he had neatly tucked in the black T-shirt, and his

things were in a small, tidy bundle. Nobody was stopping for him. I

could see the other drivers take one look and immediately focus on

something else - anything else.

It was so hot out. I could see in the man's very blue eyes how

dejected and tired and worn-out he felt. The sweat was trickling down

his face. As I sat with the air-conditioning blowing, the scripture

suddenly popped into my head. " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the

least of these, my brethren, so ye have done it unto me. "

I reached down into my purse and extracted a ten dollar bill. My

twelve-year old son, Nick knew right away what I was doing. " Can I

take it to him, Mom? "

" Be careful, honey. " I warned and handed him the money. I watched in

the mirror as he rushed over to the man, and with a shy smile, handed

it to him. I saw the man, startled, stand and take the money, putting

it into his back pocket. " Good, " I thought to myself, " now he will at

least have a hot meal tonight. " I felt satisfied, proud of myself. I

had made a sacrifice and now I could go on with my errands.

When Nick got back into the car, he looked at me with sad, pleading

eyes. " Mom, his dog looks so hot and the man is really nice. " I knew I

had to do more.

" Go back and tell him to stay there, that we will be back in fifteen

minutes, " I told Nick. He bounded out of the car and ran to tell the

tattooed stranger.

We then ran to the nearest store and bought our gifts carefully. " It

can't be too heavy, " I explained to the children. " He has to be able

to carry it around with him. " We finally settled on our purchases. A

bag of " Ol' Roy " (I hoped it was good - it looked good enough for me

to eat! How do they make dog food look that way?); a flavored chew-toy

shaped like a bone; a water dish, bacon flavored snacks (for the dog);

two bottles of water (one for the dog, one for Mr. Tattoos); and some

people snacks for the man.

We rushed back to the spot where we had left him, and there he was,

still waiting. And still nobody else was stopping for him. With hands

shaking, I grabbed our bags and climbed out of the car, all four of my

children following me, each carrying gifts. As we walked up to him, I

had a fleeting moment of fear, hoping he wasn't a serial killer.

I looked into his eyes and saw something that startled me and made me

ashamed of my judgment. I saw tears. He was fighting like a little boy

to hold back his tears. How long had it been since someone showed this

man kindness? I told him I hoped it wasn't too heavy for him to carry

and showed him what we had brought. He stood there, like a child at

Christmas, and I felt like my small contributions were so inadequate.

When I took out the water dish, he snatched it out of my hands as if

it were solid gold and told me he had had no way to give his dog

water. He gingerly set it down, filled it with the bottled water we

brought, and stood up to look directly into my eyes. His were so blue,

so intense and my own filled with tears as he said " Ma'am, I don't

know what to say. " He then put both hands on his bandanna-clad head

and just started to cry. This man, this " scary " man, was so gentle, so

sweet, so humble.

I smiled through my tears and said " Don't say anything. " Then I

noticed the tattoo on his neck. It said " Mama tried. "

As we all piled into the van and drove away, he was on his knees, arms

around his dog, kissing his nose and smiling. I waved cheerfully and

then fully broke down in tears.

I have so much. My worries seem so trivial and petty now. I have a

home, a loving husband, four beautiful children. I have a bed. I

wondered where he would sleep tonight.

My step-daughter, e turned to me and said in the sweetest

little-girl voice, " I feel so good. "

Although it seemed as if we had helped him, the man with the tattoos

gave us a gift that I will never forget. He taught that no matter what

the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human being deserving

of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance. He opened my heart.

Tonight and every night I will pray for the gentle man with the

tattoos and his dog. And I will hope that God will send more people

like him into my life to remind me what's really important.

[Guest guest]

"no matter what the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human being deserving

of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance."What a wonderful sentence....to see each person as human no matter what is a way of reminding us what we are too. We're all the same. The ultimate road to compassion is to care, and remember that we were all children once seeing through innocent eyes. Just like our children are right now. Such a tragedy, writing people off on stereotypes. My love to you for sharing this....Stefanie>> Tattooed Stranger, The> by: Fahncke, , Heartwarmers4u> > > He was kind of scary.> > He sat there on the grass with his cardboard sign, his dog (actually> his dog was adorable) and tattoos running up and down both arms and> even on his neck. His sign proclaimed him to be "stuck and hungry" and> to please help.> > I'm a sucker for anyone needing help. My husband both hates and loves> this quality in me.> > I pulled the van over and in my rear-view mirror, contemplated this> man, tattoos and all. He was youngish, maybe forty. He wore one of> those bandannas tied over his head, biker/pirate style. Anyone could> see he was dirty and had a scraggly beard. But if you looked closer,> you could see that he had neatly tucked in the black T-shirt, and his> things were in a small, tidy bundle. Nobody was stopping for him. I> could see the other drivers take one look and immediately focus on> something else - anything else.> > It was so hot out. I could see in the man's very blue eyes how> dejected and tired and worn-out he felt. The sweat was trickling down> his face. As I sat with the air-conditioning blowing, the scripture> suddenly popped into my head. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the> least of these, my brethren, so ye have done it unto me."> > I reached down into my purse and extracted a ten dollar bill. My> twelve-year old son, Nick knew right away what I was doing. "Can I> take it to him, Mom?"> > "Be careful, honey." I warned and handed him the money. I watched in> the mirror as he rushed over to the man, and with a shy smile, handed> it to him. I saw the man, startled, stand and take the money, putting> it into his back pocket. "Good," I thought to myself, "now he will at> least have a hot meal tonight." I felt satisfied, proud of myself. I> had made a sacrifice and now I could go on with my errands.> > When Nick got back into the car, he looked at me with sad, pleading> eyes. "Mom, his dog looks so hot and the man is really nice." I knew I> had to do more.> > "Go back and tell him to stay there, that we will be back in fifteen> minutes," I told Nick. He bounded out of the car and ran to tell the> tattooed stranger.> > We then ran to the nearest store and bought our gifts carefully. "It> can't be too heavy," I explained to the children. "He has to be able> to carry it around with him." We finally settled on our purchases. A> bag of "Ol' Roy" (I hoped it was good - it looked good enough for me> to eat! How do they make dog food look that way?); a flavored chew-toy> shaped like a bone; a water dish, bacon flavored snacks (for the dog);> two bottles of water (one for the dog, one for Mr. Tattoos); and some> people snacks for the man.> > We rushed back to the spot where we had left him, and there he was,> still waiting. And still nobody else was stopping for him. With hands> shaking, I grabbed our bags and climbed out of the car, all four of my> children following me, each carrying gifts. As we walked up to him, I> had a fleeting moment of fear, hoping he wasn't a serial killer.> > I looked into his eyes and saw something that startled me and made me> ashamed of my judgment. I saw tears. He was fighting like a little boy> to hold back his tears. How long had it been since someone showed this> man kindness? I told him I hoped it wasn't too heavy for him to carry> and showed him what we had brought. He stood there, like a child at> Christmas, and I felt like my small contributions were so inadequate.> When I took out the water dish, he snatched it out of my hands as if> it were solid gold and told me he had had no way to give his dog> water. He gingerly set it down, filled it with the bottled water we> brought, and stood up to look directly into my eyes. His were so blue,> so intense and my own filled with tears as he said "Ma'am, I don't> know what to say." He then put both hands on his bandanna-clad head> and just started to cry. This man, this "scary" man, was so gentle, so> sweet, so humble.> > I smiled through my tears and said "Don't say anything." Then I> noticed the tattoo on his neck. It said "Mama tried."> > As we all piled into the van and drove away, he was on his knees, arms> around his dog, kissing his nose and smiling. I waved cheerfully and> then fully broke down in tears.> > I have so much. My worries seem so trivial and petty now. I have a> home, a loving husband, four beautiful children. I have a bed. I> wondered where he would sleep tonight.> > My step-daughter, e turned to me and said in the sweetest> little-girl voice, "I feel so good."> > Although it seemed as if we had helped him, the man with the tattoos> gave us a gift that I will never forget. He taught that no matter what> the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human being deserving> of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance. He opened my heart.> > Tonight and every night I will pray for the gentle man with the> tattoos and his dog. And I will hope that God will send more people> like him into my life to remind me what's really important.>

[Guest guest]

*me jumping on Stef's bandwagon of Love & Gratitude* Yes! Yes! Yes! Yay! Thank you both - and Stef - for saying so beautifully what has so long, in my humble opinion, been one of the major challenges/issues that has kept us as a race of peoples separate; how we view others. You are both so wonderful and amazing. I love you! ~Ali~Stefanie <diddiejar@...> wrote: "no matter what the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human being deserving of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance."What a wonderful sentence....to see each person as human no matter what is a way of reminding us what we are too. We're all the same. The ultimate road to compassion is to care, and remember that we were all children once seeing through innocent eyes. Just like our children are right now. Such a tragedy, writing people off on stereotypes. My love to you for sharing this....Stefanie>> Tattooed Stranger, The> by: Fahncke, , Heartwarmers4u> > > He was kind of scary.> > He sat

there on the grass with his cardboard sign, his dog (actually> his dog was adorable) and tattoos running up and down both arms and> even on his neck. His sign proclaimed him to be "stuck and hungry" and> to please help.> > I'm a sucker for anyone needing help. My husband both hates and loves> this quality in me.> > I pulled the van over and in my rear-view mirror, contemplated this> man, tattoos and all. He was youngish, maybe forty. He wore one of> those bandannas tied over his head, biker/pirate style. Anyone could> see he was dirty and had a scraggly beard. But if you looked closer,> you could see that he had neatly tucked in the black T-shirt, and his> things were in a small, tidy bundle. Nobody was stopping for him. I> could see the other drivers take one look and immediately focus on> something else - anything else.> > It was so hot out. I could see

in the man's very blue eyes how> dejected and tired and worn-out he felt. The sweat was trickling down> his face. As I sat with the air-conditioning blowing, the scripture> suddenly popped into my head. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the> least of these, my brethren, so ye have done it unto me."> > I reached down into my purse and extracted a ten dollar bill. My> twelve-year old son, Nick knew right away what I was doing. "Can I> take it to him, Mom?"> > "Be careful, honey." I warned and handed him the money. I watched in> the mirror as he rushed over to the man, and with a shy smile, handed> it to him. I saw the man, startled, stand and take the money, putting> it into his back pocket. "Good," I thought to myself, "now he will at> least have a hot meal tonight." I felt satisfied, proud of myself. I> had made a sacrifice and now I could go on with my errands.>

> When Nick got back into the car, he looked at me with sad, pleading> eyes. "Mom, his dog looks so hot and the man is really nice." I knew I> had to do more.> > "Go back and tell him to stay there, that we will be back in fifteen> minutes," I told Nick. He bounded out of the car and ran to tell the> tattooed stranger.> > We then ran to the nearest store and bought our gifts carefully. "It> can't be too heavy," I explained to the children. "He has to be able> to carry it around with him." We finally settled on our purchases. A> bag of "Ol' Roy" (I hoped it was good - it looked good enough for me> to eat! How do they make dog food look that way?); a flavored chew-toy> shaped like a bone; a water dish, bacon flavored snacks (for the dog);> two bottles of water (one for the dog, one for Mr. Tattoos); and some> people snacks for the man.> > We rushed

back to the spot where we had left him, and there he was,> still waiting. And still nobody else was stopping for him. With hands> shaking, I grabbed our bags and climbed out of the car, all four of my> children following me, each carrying gifts. As we walked up to him, I> had a fleeting moment of fear, hoping he wasn't a serial killer.> > I looked into his eyes and saw something that startled me and made me> ashamed of my judgment. I saw tears. He was fighting like a little boy> to hold back his tears. How long had it been since someone showed this> man kindness? I told him I hoped it wasn't too heavy for him to carry> and showed him what we had brought. He stood there, like a child at> Christmas, and I felt like my small contributions were so inadequate.> When I took out the water dish, he snatched it out of my hands as if> it were solid gold and told me he had had no way to give

his dog> water. He gingerly set it down, filled it with the bottled water we> brought, and stood up to look directly into my eyes. His were so blue,> so intense and my own filled with tears as he said "Ma'am, I don't> know what to say." He then put both hands on his bandanna-clad head> and just started to cry. This man, this "scary" man, was so gentle, so> sweet, so humble.> > I smiled through my tears and said "Don't say anything." Then I> noticed the tattoo on his neck. It said "Mama tried."> > As we all piled into the van and drove away, he was on his knees, arms> around his dog, kissing his nose and smiling. I waved cheerfully and> then fully broke down in tears.> > I have so much. My worries seem so trivial and petty now. I have a> home, a loving husband, four beautiful children. I have a bed. I> wondered where he would sleep tonight.> >

My step-daughter, e turned to me and said in the sweetest> little-girl voice, "I feel so good."> > Although it seemed as if we had helped him, the man with the tattoos> gave us a gift that I will never forget. He taught that no matter what> the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human being deserving> of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance. He opened my heart.> > Tonight and every night I will pray for the gentle man with the> tattoos and his dog. And I will hope that God will send more people> like him into my life to remind me what's really important.>

[Guest guest]

Dear ,

All I can say is this was so beautiful, my dear! It brought

tears to my eyes. Too often we do judge a book by it's cover as the

saying goes. Thank you so much for this message of love and

understanding. You are loved! Namaste, LUNA---

In , " Stefanie " <diddiejar@...> wrote:

>

> " no matter what the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human

> being deserving

> of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance. "

>

> What a wonderful sentence....to see each person as human no matter

what

> is a way of reminding us what we are too. We're all the same. The

> ultimate road to compassion is to care, and remember that we were

all

> children once seeing through innocent eyes. Just like our children

are

> right now.

>

> Such a tragedy, writing people off on stereotypes.

>

> My love to you for sharing this....

> Stefanie

>

>

>

>

> >

> > Tattooed Stranger, The

> > by: Fahncke, , Heartwarmers4u

> >

> >

> > He was kind of scary.

> >

> > He sat there on the grass with his cardboard sign, his dog

(actually

> > his dog was adorable) and tattoos running up and down both arms

and

> > even on his neck. His sign proclaimed him to be " stuck and

hungry " and

> > to please help.

> >

> > I'm a sucker for anyone needing help. My husband both hates and

loves

> > this quality in me.

> >

> > I pulled the van over and in my rear-view mirror, contemplated

this

> > man, tattoos and all. He was youngish, maybe forty. He wore one of

> > those bandannas tied over his head, biker/pirate style. Anyone

could

> > see he was dirty and had a scraggly beard. But if you looked

closer,

> > you could see that he had neatly tucked in the black T-shirt, and

his

> > things were in a small, tidy bundle. Nobody was stopping for him.

I

> > could see the other drivers take one look and immediately focus on

> > something else - anything else.

> >

> > It was so hot out. I could see in the man's very blue eyes how

> > dejected and tired and worn-out he felt. The sweat was trickling

down

> > his face. As I sat with the air-conditioning blowing, the

scripture

> > suddenly popped into my head. " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto

the

> > least of these, my brethren, so ye have done it unto me. "

> >

> > I reached down into my purse and extracted a ten dollar bill. My

> > twelve-year old son, Nick knew right away what I was doing. " Can I

> > take it to him, Mom? "

> >

> > " Be careful, honey. " I warned and handed him the money. I watched

in

> > the mirror as he rushed over to the man, and with a shy smile,

handed

> > it to him. I saw the man, startled, stand and take the money,

putting

> > it into his back pocket. " Good, " I thought to myself, " now he

will at

> > least have a hot meal tonight. " I felt satisfied, proud of

myself. I

> > had made a sacrifice and now I could go on with my errands.

> >

> > When Nick got back into the car, he looked at me with sad,

pleading

> > eyes. " Mom, his dog looks so hot and the man is really nice. " I

knew I

> > had to do more.

> >

> > " Go back and tell him to stay there, that we will be back in

fifteen

> > minutes, " I told Nick. He bounded out of the car and ran to tell

the

> > tattooed stranger.

> >

> > We then ran to the nearest store and bought our gifts

carefully. " It

> > can't be too heavy, " I explained to the children. " He has to be

able

> > to carry it around with him. " We finally settled on our

purchases. A

> > bag of " Ol' Roy " (I hoped it was good - it looked good enough for

me

> > to eat! How do they make dog food look that way?); a flavored

chew-toy

> > shaped like a bone; a water dish, bacon flavored snacks (for the

dog);

> > two bottles of water (one for the dog, one for Mr. Tattoos); and

some

> > people snacks for the man.

> >

> > We rushed back to the spot where we had left him, and there he

was,

> > still waiting. And still nobody else was stopping for him. With

hands

> > shaking, I grabbed our bags and climbed out of the car, all four

of my

> > children following me, each carrying gifts. As we walked up to

him, I

> > had a fleeting moment of fear, hoping he wasn't a serial killer.

> >

> > I looked into his eyes and saw something that startled me and

made me

> > ashamed of my judgment. I saw tears. He was fighting like a

little boy

> > to hold back his tears. How long had it been since someone showed

this

> > man kindness? I told him I hoped it wasn't too heavy for him to

carry

> > and showed him what we had brought. He stood there, like a child

at

> > Christmas, and I felt like my small contributions were so

inadequate.

> > When I took out the water dish, he snatched it out of my hands as

if

> > it were solid gold and told me he had had no way to give his dog

> > water. He gingerly set it down, filled it with the bottled water

we

> > brought, and stood up to look directly into my eyes. His were so

blue,

> > so intense and my own filled with tears as he said " Ma'am, I don't

> > know what to say. " He then put both hands on his bandanna-clad

head

> > and just started to cry. This man, this " scary " man, was so

gentle, so

> > sweet, so humble.

> >

> > I smiled through my tears and said " Don't say anything. " Then I

> > noticed the tattoo on his neck. It said " Mama tried. "

> >

> > As we all piled into the van and drove away, he was on his knees,

arms

> > around his dog, kissing his nose and smiling. I waved cheerfully

and

> > then fully broke down in tears.

> >

> > I have so much. My worries seem so trivial and petty now. I have a

> > home, a loving husband, four beautiful children. I have a bed. I

> > wondered where he would sleep tonight.

> >

> > My step-daughter, e turned to me and said in the sweetest

> > little-girl voice, " I feel so good. "

> >

> > Although it seemed as if we had helped him, the man with the

tattoos

> > gave us a gift that I will never forget. He taught that no matter

what

> > the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human being

deserving

> > of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance. He opened my heart.

> >

> > Tonight and every night I will pray for the gentle man with the

> > tattoos and his dog. And I will hope that God will send more

people

> > like him into my life to remind me what's really important.

> >

>

[Guest guest]

This is very beautiful, thank you so much for sharing it.

I understand the fear the goes along with walking up to a complete

stranger who is ragged and dirty, handing them money, while praying

not to be harmed by this person that I am hoping to help, for I have

been there!

I also understand the aloneness and rejection felt by the homeless

man, when persons were afraid to talk to or to help him, as he was

ragged, dirty and tattood.

I too was once homeless, dirty, tired, alone and afraid.

I pray never to have to be there again, though I always keep within

the back of my mind, how very close to there I have often since

become, and how very frightening that feeling can be... but I ALWAYS

AND EVERMORE will keep in my heart and mind, the things that I saw

and learned at being homelss, lessons that have made me much of who I

am today.

Of these lessons that I learned, was included lessons about people,

of what really counts the most, and of what doesn't. Of what makes

true coursge, and what makes of real true and tangible atttributes,

of what makes us so very truely worthwhile as beings versus, what

could be just a frilly outside decore of a somewhat empty package and

that, no matter what else a person shall possess in this world...

the greatest possesion to have or to seek out in a friend... the

very greatest treasure beyond all...

is love.

Thank you for sharing your story about the homeless man. But, thank

you even more for letting love overpower your fear of a frightening

person!!!! Yes, he could have been a serial killer, he could have

been any number of things... or he could be someone just like I

was, just a very down and frightened person, who was hoping and

praying just to make it through one more day... and one more chance

to be okay.

Now.... I am okay..... And life.... it is an opportunity. An

opportunity for love and light to prevail over all of the sadness,

the illness, the hurts, and the anguish... and to let life be what it

was meant to be all along. Beautiful and thriving... with love as

it's guide and sustinance.

Many blessings to you!

>

> The Tattooed Stranger

>

> He was kind of scary.

>

> He sat there on the grass with his cardboard sign, his dog

(actually his dog was adorable) and tattoos running up and down both

arms and even on his neck.

>

> His sign proclaimed him to be " stuck and hungry " and to please

help.

>

> I'm a sucker for anyone needing help.

>

> My husband both hates and loves this quality in me.

>

> I pulled the van over and in my rear-view mirror, contemplated this

man, tattoos and all.

>

> He was youngish, maybe forty.

>

> He wore one of those bandanas tied over his head, biker/pirate

style.

>

> Anyone could see he was dirty and had a scraggly beard.

>

> But if you looked closer, you could see that he had neatly tucked

in the black T-shirt, and his things were in a small, tidy bundle.

>

> Nobody was stopping for him.

>

> I could see the other drivers take one look and immediately focus

on something else - anything else.

>

> It was so hot out.

>

> I could see in the man's very blue eyes how dejected and tired and

worn-out he felt.

>

> The sweat was trickling down his face.

>

> As I sat with the air-conditioning blowing, the scripture suddenly

popped into my head. " In as much as ye have done it unto the least of

these, my brethren, so ye have done it unto me. "

>

> I reached down into my purse and extracted a ten dollar bill.

>

> My twelve-year old son, Nick knew right away what I was doing. " Can

I take it to him, Mom? "

>

> " Be careful, honey. " I warned and handed him the money.

>

> I watched in the mirror as he rushed over to the man, and with a

shy smile, handed it to him.

>

> I saw the man, startled, stand and take the money, putting it into

his back pocket.

>

> " Good, " I thought to myself, " now he will at least have a hot meal

tonight. "

>

> I felt satisfied, proud of myself.

>

> I had made a sacrifice and now I could go on with my errands.

>

> When Nick got back into the car, he looked at me with sad, pleading

eyes.

>

> " Mom, his dog looks so hot and the man is really nice. "

>

> I knew I had to do more. " Go back and tell him to stay there, that

we will be back in fifteen minutes, " I told Nick.

>

> He bounded out of the car and ran to tell the tattooed stranger.

>

> We then ran to the nearest store and bought our gifts carefully.

>

> " It can't be too heavy, " I explained to the children. " He has to be

able to carry it around with him. "

>

> We finally settled on our purchases.

>

> A bag of " Ol' Roy " (I hoped it was good - it looked good enough for

me to eat! How do they make dog food look that way?); a flavored chew-

toy shaped like a bone; a water dish, bacon flavored snacks (for the

dog); two bottles of water (one for the dog, one for Mr. Tattoos);

and some people snacks for the man.

>

> We rushed back to the spot where we had left him, and there he was,

still waiting.

>

> And still nobody else was stopping for him.

>

> With hands shaking, I grabbed our bags and climbed out of the car,

all four of my children following me, each carrying gifts.

>

> As we walked up to him, I had a fleeting moment of fear, hoping he

wasn't a serial killer, I looked into his eyes and saw something that

startled me and made me ashamed of my judgment.

>

> I saw tears.

>

> He was fighting like a little boy to hold back his tears.

>

> How long had it been since someone showed this man kindness?

>

> I told him I hoped it wasn't too heavy for him to carry and showed

him what we had brought.

>

> He stood there, like a child at Christmas, and I felt like my small

contributions were so inadequate.

>

> When I took out the water dish, he snatched it out of my hands as

if it were solid gold and told me he had had no way to give his dog

water.

>

> He gingerly set it down, filled it with the bottled water we

brought, and stood up to look directly into my eyes.

>

> His were so blue, so intense and my own filled with tears as he

said " Ma'am, I don't know what to say. "

>

> He then put both hands on his bandana-clad head and just started to

cry.

>

> This man, this " scary " man, was so gentle, so sweet, so humble.

>

> I smiled through my tears and said " Don't say anything. "

>

> Then I noticed the tattoo on his neck.

>

> It said " Mama tried. "

>

> As we all piled into the van and drove away, he was on his knees,

arms around his dog, kissing his nose and smiling.

>

> I waved cheerfully and then fully broke down in tears.

>

> I have so much.

>

> My worries seem so trivial and petty now.

>

> I have a home, a loving husband, four beautiful children.

>

> I have a bed.

>

> I wondered where he would sleep tonight.

>

> My step-daughter, e turned to me and said in the sweetest

little-girl voice, " I feel so good. "

>

> Although it seemed as if we had helped him, the man with the tattoo

gave us a gift that I will never forget.

>

> He taught that no matter what the outside looks like, inside each

of us is a human being deserving of kindness, of compassion, of

acceptance.

>

> He opened my heart.

>

> Tonight and every night I will pray for the gentle man with the

tattoos and his dog.

>

> And I will hope that God will send more people like him into my

life to remind me what's really important.

>