We meet some real
characters on the streets of New York City. But behind every person there's a
story, and within every story is an intricate trail of experiences that explain
why people are the way they are. Our friend Charlie is no exception. He is an
eccentric little man who roams the streets and stops by the Prayer Station
every Saturday, often sporting a new piece of jewelry that he designed out of
the various things he found on the sidewalk throughout the week. He has a childlike
sense of humor, and a whole lot of energy. Interactions with Charlie are always
an experience, to say the least. But as fun as he can be, he is also deeply
troubled.
Growing up in a war-torn
country in Southeast Asia, he witnessed family and friends die as he watched
foreign armies burn down his village. He copes with these memories by trying to
escape reality and often by self-medicating with alcohol. We don’t know if
Charlie has any real companions, and it’s very possible that the reason he
comes to see us every week is because he feels loved and cared for.
This was confirmed last
week when I happened to see him while walking down Main Street. We hadn't done
our typical Flushing Prayer Station for a few weeks, so I knew Charlie was
eager to see us. I said, “Charlie! So good to see you!” The look on his face
showed that he was totally shocked to see us, and the glazed over look in his
eyes gave away the fact that he'd been drinking. Tears started running down his
face as he asked, “Where have you been?” He whimpered and said, "I need
you guys!" I opened my arms to hug him and he clung to me so tightly. He
didn't want to let me go, so I let him cry on my shoulder for a while.
People may seem strange
or scary on the outside, but we have to learn to look past those things and
love them where they are. I can picture the Father loving Charlie through that hug.
