It's been just over two weeks since I've been back in the states, and I have to say, I'm enjoying being back in America. Signs are in English, conversations I overhear around me are in English, TV/Radio/YouTube Ads are in English...it's been kind of nice to not have to think about everything I want to say or do before I say or do it. Comfortable. My last few days in Spain were the best few days of the whole trip. I barely had any homework, I went out with my new friends from the group and laughed a lot, I relaxed with Piedad...things were super enjoyable. Which only made me want to stay longer, something I didn't think I'd be saying at any point during my trip.
There was this homeless guy who sat right outside our apartment building. Every single day he would set up his cardboard box to sit on, lay a bowl down on the ground, and hold his sign, which read something along the lines of: "I have two sons and no job. Please help me pay for their food. They are very hungry." This guy looked like a legit homeless guy, and clearly he didn't have a job because he sat outside our building every day, but I was suspicious anyway. Too often I've given people money on the streets and they go running down the street with it and end up buying a pack of cigarettes or something (yes, this has happened to me before). But one day, I was sitting on the porch (of the 2nd floor, remember) having a quiet time, and noticed that below me some nice person was giving the homeless guy a couple of euros. I peered over the railing to see what he was going to do with the money as the nice person went on their way. He immediately got up, left his seat and his blankets and even his bowl of money, went around the corner, and came back a minute later carrying a 3 gallon jug of water and a few loaves of bread. He was seriously thirsty and seriously hungry. He stuffed the bread into his bag and would occasionally take a sip of water until he finally got up and left. Earlier than usual. My guess was he couldn't wait any longer to get home to his sons to show them what he had pulled from the day.
My last day, I was cleaning and packing up my room and found an extra 20 euros under some clothes. Since I had no intention of spending the rest of the money I had in Spain, I went downstairs and walked up to the homeless guy and put the 20 into his hand. He kept thanking me out of his shock and calling me beautiful and telling me the Lord was going to bless me and all I could do was stand there while he kissed my hand and not move or say a word. I couldn't think of anything to say to this man who had so much faithfulness that the Lord was going to provide for him that he sat on his box day after day and just trusted that he'd rake up enough money from nice people to feed his two boys. When he finally let me go, all I wanted to do was go find the rest of the old homeless men and women in Spain and give them 20 euros too. I never thought I'd be getting an unintentional Jesus lesson from a homeless dude while I was in Spain. Ha, but it happened.
Overall my experience was truly great, even if it did take me longer than most to adjust to my surroundings. Piedad and I talked so much about visiting each other down the road; I'm super excited because I think that'll probably happen some day. But for now, I'm seriously enjoying America.
