Crazy

This morning I am thinking about the man I encountered while I was stopped at a red light one day this week.  It might be more accurate to say that we encountered each other.  He was about 20 feet away when I first noticed him there on the sidewalk to my left.  In odd defiance of the blazing afternoon sun, he was donned in a red knit cap and a green and black, long sleeved flannel shirt.  He was standing, almost posing, with one hand on his hip.  In the other hand, he was wielding a banana as if it were a gun.  And he was cussing up a storm.  I was saying to myself, “Oh boy.  He’s crazy!”  Then he turned and looked directly at me.  It was a strange and awkward moment when the two of us made eye contact…when I knew that he saw me seeing him.  Ordinarily, I would have just looked away.  Ordinarily, I would have been thinking, “If I look away, then he’ll go away.”  But, for whatever reason, this time I didn’t look away.  Perhaps that is why he started walking toward my car.  When he was about 10 feet away, I wondered if he would just cross the street in front of me.  After all, he had the green light.  When he was about 8 feet away, I realized he was actually, intentionally approaching me!  Still cussing.  When he was about 5 feet away, I thought about what I might say if he came any closer.  At 2 feet, it came to me what I would say to him.  I would say, “Hi.”  But, then, he suddenly stopped.  He turned his body, as well as his gaze, and started to walk away.  He gave me a quick glance over his shoulder, as he departed.  As I drove slowly through the green light, I tried to imagine what he might have done had he come any closer.  Maybe flashed me.  Maybe just cussed me out.  Maybe smacked me with the banana.  I began rehearsing an old platitude in my head:  “That might be someone’s father or brother or husband.”  But then it occurred to me that, even if he was none of those things to anybody, he was still somebody.  He was somebody with a mind (however broken), a life, and a story.  He was somebody to whom I could choose to show compassion and respect rather than judgment.  As I sit here today I believe we were both stationed at that exact intersection, at that exact time, because he was somebody who needed to know that someone else sees.  Call me crazy, but I’m really glad it was me.