Christian Living

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Charlie was a prominent businessman at a very young age. He had everything—cars, women, money, a condo in downtown Chicago.

When I met him, he stood in front of me at the corner shop—two brown paper bags of junk at his feet. He leaned down and removed a five dollar bill from the inside of his green wool sock, and paid for the pack of off-brand cigarettes.

Charlie was nearly sixty-years-old and homeless.

“Sorry kid,†he said, apologizing for the long wait.

“It’s okay, sir,†I replied.

“Sir? Look at me…I’m a dirtbag!â€

Then he walked out of the store.

As I exited I saw him fishing through the trashcan for a food.

“My name is Stephen,†I said to him, holding my hand out to shake his.

“Charlie,†is all he said, without looking up.

“Can I buy you a sandwich or cup of soup?†I asked him.

“You can buy me a beer,†he responded.

“How’s Rick’s?†I asked.

“What do you want from me, kid?â€

“Your company.â€

A smile came across his face.

And I knew, I had succeeded for the day.

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