On ignoring angels

I would like to think that I am a good person. Most of the decisions I make are made in favor of the greater good. If I can help it, I choose not to hurt other people; and when I can, I choose to help. At least that's how my credo goes. In reality, I frequently disappoint myself.

This morning as I am leaving the metro station, I pass by an old woman sitting on the steps. I normally don't give alms but today I've brought some bread for breakfast. I stop in midstep and look back at her. Her gray hair, like her dress, is faded and dusty. The bronze, wrinkled face is impassive. What little emotion she has left escapes in the slight quivering of her thin lips. She is hungry. But I am walking too fast and my momentum is too strong. Irresolutely, I walk on, torn. I feel my heart starting to harden. In my head a debate with conscience.

For I was hungry and you gave Me food.

I remember what it is like to be hungry. My heart blooms with pain. I start walking slower. It should be very easy to just turn around and walk back to the woman, but it's not. I think of what I'm planning to have for breakfast when I get to the office. Maybe I'll buy myself a carton of milk from the convenience store down the block. Maybe a rice treat from that street vendor further along. I can't stand the guilt. I turn around. There is a river of people walking down the steps. I make my way up slowly, looking for her. The old woman is gone.

For I was hungry and you gave Me food.


It's not everyday that you get to see angels and I foolishly let this one go by. Walking the rest of the way to the office, I felt sad. I resented myself for not being good enough, for all the thoughts that ran through my head before finally deciding to do good. And then I remembered that God forgives, and that angels will always be around.