My father was kind enough to take me to Mass at St. Christopher's on Sunday but he did not attend the Mass himself. He went to a museum with exhibits on Walt Whitman and Where the Wild Things Are.
Before Mass we went to Holy Innocents on west 37th st to light a candle. I lit a candle in front of the statue of St. Lucy with golden eyes. I gave a dollar and prayed for the restoration of Julian's eyesight and for general intentions. Then we went to Saint Agnes on east 43rd st. My father sat down in a pew during Mass and I went over to the statue of "The Little Flower" and put in 2 dollars. I lit a candle, a real candle, not an electric light, and prayed for whatever intentions the Blessed Mother had in mind. It was a good day.
After prayer was over there was a street fair where they were buying and selling (on Sunday, not good [though perhaps they were just pretending to buy and sell, you can never be too sure]. ) and they had music. There was a band with a saxophone and they were playing "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd. Google told me it was written by Roger Waters.
While listening to the music a seemingly homeless man with the prettiest blue eyes, like Saint Benedict Joseph Labre, came up to me and asked for some food. I was feeling generous, so I gave him my leftover half of a sandwich and french fries I had from when my father and I ate lunch at Scotty's Diner (on Lexington Avenue) after Mass. I hope he enjoyed it. Giving food to the poor beggar was like giving a tithe to Christ. Help out however you can. They say you shouldn't give homeless men money because they will spend it on drugs or alcohol or cigarettes. But you can give them their daily bread. They say Saint Francis would only eat the black hard crusts of bread that people would give him, but to him that was the finest of delicacies as "Lady Poverty" was the most beautiful woman. To me the most beautiful woman in the world is probably Cecilia. She is really pretty. I met her at Church.
Saint Martin of Porres, pray for us.
Very strange! Many years ago, 1995? I met a homeless man of the same description begging for food with a sign in the same place, E. 43 St. outside of St. Agnes. I walked past, ignoring him, but when I got to Lexington Ave., I couldn’t shake the thought that I was supposed to give him food. I went into a deli and bought two different lunches, a chicken sandwich and a tuna sandwich, a banana and an apple, a pack of chocolate chip cookies and a bag of Doritos, a can of Coke and 7-Up. I returned, half expecting him to be gone, but he was still there, sitting down against the church doors which were chained shut. His sign was lying beside him. I asked, “Are you the man who wanted food?” because his sign was face down. He perked up and replied, “Yes, could you please spare something, Miss?” I gave him his choice of lunch, explaining that one was for him, the other for me. He seemed pretty amazed, and took the chicken, the banana, the Coke, and the cookies. I felt inspired to sit and eat with him, which I did. He told me he was from Wisconsin and had been on the street for about five years. He’d run first from his mother’s boyfriend who was violent. He’d been placed in a few foster homes and then in a boy’s facility for shoplifting. He was supposed to go to juvenile court, but he’d taken off and come to New York. He thought he was 21 or 22, but he wasn’t sure. The last year had been bad because he shot up some heroin. He’d been clean since the Spring and he was waiting to see about Catholic Charities getting him a bed in the shelter. He told me his name was Jason. He also had striking blue eyes. I recall that distinctly. I left him with a little cash, and we went our separate ways, me to the train uptown, Jason to Catholic Charities.