The unexpected surprise of compassion came to men who were hungry on a Friday evening where tens of thousands were several blocks away taking in the offerings of Azalea Festival foods. We came as we've done for the past several months to give the men a hot meal, a word of encouragement, a prayer for hope in the midst of current struggles, and a consistent "we're coming back next time" mentality. Did the smells of the bratwurst and funnel cakes reach the Mercy House? The irony was not lost on them I'm sure.
A certain gentleman came upon the meal line to receive some spaghetti and meatballs, the meal prepared for the night. He took the plate, smiled, and made a few comments to the students who were compassionate towards him. He also mentioned he needed to move his truck. I thought nothing of it and said sure, we'll move the tables for you. The last thing he said as he walked away from the tables was I've been selling Christian t-shirts all day. I was curious as to his connection with the Mercy House, perhaps there was none, no matter, we would feed whoever walked up and needed a meal.
As the truck drove by the tables we had moved, the man rolled down his window, reached toward me and said, "here". I saw he was trying to tip us, so I politely declined and said you keep it man. He continued to insist, so I took the folded bills and put them in my pocket, and carried on with the feeding. After we had closed down for the evening, I pulled out the tip, and it was an amazing act of generosity. It was a miracle. Funds were tight with the ministry as it stood, and a complete stranger who we gave a meal to, simply was recklessly generous. It was the Mercy House Miracle.
