Letting My Heart Break

In downtown Kolkata there is a road I walk down nearly every day. Along the sidewalk there are many merchants, some beggars, and always a steady flow of people. Of at the side of the road, just before the subway entrance there is a man overlooked and forgotten by this world. Unlike many beggars, he won't follow you for a block or more asking for money. He won't even hold out his hand, or rather he can't. He doesn't have any arms. All he does is lay face down on a thin blanket waving an 8 inch stump that should be a left arm. Every day when I see him I look away and speed up my pace to get past him quickly. Like the rest of this city, I want to forget him and pretend he doesn't exist. The "generous" people will throw a rupee or two on the blanket next to him. I don't even know what good that does. As far as I can tell, he cannot get himself up off of the ground. Certainly he cannot pick up the coins save perhaps in his mouth. Still, who am I to criticize when I will do nothing for him.

Yesterday at Church the reality of my hard heart hit me. I realized that I was too scared and selfish to let my heart break for him or any other beggar on the street. It wasn't a pleasant reality, but that's what I saw. After Church I got out my journal and wrote down my commitment: I would try to love him. I had no idea how, or if I would even succeed. All I knew was that the way to a softer heart was to start by letting my heart break for this one man.

On my way home that afternoon I made sure to walk the route that went by him. As I approached the area I hoped that he wouldn't be there, that I would have an excuse not to love him. Fortunately my heart of stone did not have its wish. As always, he was there. I walked up to him, bent down, and spoke a Bengali greeting, one of the few things I know how to say. I quickly discovered that to be the limit of our ability to converse. I asked a passing Indian man if he knew English, and then to help translate. I asked if I could get him some food, and he said he would love to eat anything. I went back up the street and bought a 7 rupee egg roll. I returned and crouched while hand feeding him.

When I was done I said goodbye, stood up, and got quite a surprise. There was a crowd of at least thirty Indians (probably more) surrounding me and watching. All eyes were on me. I didn't know what to do, so I just walked around the crowd to go to the subway station. One man came up to me and said sometime along the lines of "You did an excellent job." I thanked him, talked with him for a bit, and then caught a train home. Although simple and few, his words really touched me. Through him I heard Jesus speak to me, "Well done good and faithful servant." It wasn't that I had done any great deed. Rather, I had simply been willing to let my heart break for this man and out of that I gave a simple gift of love. Although God used me to bless this man, I was also truly blessed to serve him.

Please pray for this man. Pray for me as I continue learning how to love him. I cannot let his silent cry for help and for love go unanswered. Also pray for me and for the entire team that we would learn to love all of the poor we encounter on the streets of Kolkata.