I met a young man tonight by the name of Kweisi. He was begging change not far from where I live. I had stopped for milk.
When I asked him how he got here, he replied he had been dropped off. I said, “No, how’d it come to be that this is your life?”
“God,” he said without hesitation.
Can’t argue with that, I thought.
We talked for a few minutes. We grew up not far from each other. He was a few years younger.
“It must have been great back then,” he said wistfully. Then he paused distantly and said, “I don’t know what’s going on now.” He said it as though the world was falling apart.
I urge you, dear friends, dear clients, to look at the economy through his eyes. Look at the world through his eyes.
“It was great back then,” I confirmed. “It always is.”
Then I said, “Maybe that’s how God feels about all of this … The way we feel about the good old days.”
I asked him what was wrong with his legs. “Cerebral palsy,” he told me.
“That must be a bitch,” I said.
“I don’t let it get me down.”
I told him I liked his soul, gave him a few dollars, and I left.
My problems today were whether I would get paid on a large deal in January or February, whether or not to buy a $500K house, and whether or not to have kids very soon or soon.
I cried on my short drive home. Not because of sorrow, and not because of pity. Kweisi has his head on straighter than I do. I didn’t cry because of gratitude that I’m not in the same predicaments as Kweisi. I cried because I was – I am – so grateful that there’s God in this whole mess.