muffins for hobos

"for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in;  I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’

“Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You?  Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’

Matthew 25:35-40

I had just purchased a muffin from Marks and Spencer. I love that store. It is on Lannová street near the center square. This muffin was dark chocolate chip with a whole load of chocolate fudge injected into its delectable moist middle. Normally, I eat the bottom third first and then the fudge to muffin ratio is much higher as I consume the revered muffin top.


It was bitterly cold, -20 and windy. Even bundled up like an engorged tick ("I can't put my arms down!!") I was freezing. The wind was biting, turning my face into an angry red mask.
Loaded down like pack mules, we began our journey from the center of town to where our car was parked by the river, about a 20-30 minute walk.


It seems to me that every time we are in České Budějovice we see quite a few homeless people. In our little town of Hluboká I have never seen even one. But in the city, especially around Lannová, they hang out. One man in particular stands out. Always wearing shorts, even in the dead of winter, his legs look puffy and blotchy, peeling and mottled red and grey.


In my time on this earth I have come across differing opinions about helping the homeless. My friend Zdeněk believes we should help every homeless person we come across and give them as much money as we can when we happen upon them. He feels that it is their choice whether to spend it on drugs and alcohol or to buy food with it, but we have no option but to help those in need. My mum would often purchase groceries for needy people and deliver it to them on the street. Some feel giving money to a hobo-type person is just enabling them to use again and is a waste. Though compelled to do something each and every time I see a homeless person, rarely have I taken advantage of the opportunity. A couple of times I have walked into the nearest fast-food vendor and handed the homeless person a McDonald's meal. Another scant few times I have given money. Every time we see the homeless in winter, we talk again about bringing "Hobo Care Packages" with us whenever we go into town. A backpack filled with blankets, jackets and socks that we don't need to be distributed to cold people laying on the street. Alas, we forget as soon as we get in our warm house, only remembering when we see the bodies shivering on the street.


Braving the cold wind, clutching my prized chocolate muffin, we forged ahead through the bitter winter day. Off to my right I see him. Shorts-in-winter-dude. He looks worse than ever. He is lying on a sewer cover that is so warm from the muck brewing underneath that it is releasing its own fetid steam. This is the warmest place he has found.


I don't know what has lead him to be in this state. I only know that God created him and loves him. And that he might like my chocolate muffin.


We are crossing the street now. I have but a few seconds to decide. My heart is pounding. Compelled to go over to Shorts dude and hand him my muffin, but equally compelled to keep my muffin cuz it's yummy. 


We are walking by him now. I am embarrassed to tell Dan that maybe I should give the guy the muffin I bought. 


He is behind us now. 


And then gone. 


I have my muffin but it tastes like ash in my mouth.