Unexpected Mercies

Let me tell you about this preppy white dude who was walking down in a part of town where he needed a blade to protect himself. Unfortunately, he didn't carry a weapon. That's bad news because three punk drug addicts jumped him and beat the hell out of him. They took his money and left him in the alley bleeding and nearly dead. Lucky for him, there was this street preacher who was always shouting about Jesus who walked by. The preacher glanced down the alley and saw the nearly dead man. Well, it would have been lucky for him if the street preacher cared about anything but himself. He just walked on by, shouting about Jesus to the homeless people he passed and throwing tracts at them. I've heard they use the tracts for toilet paper when there isn't any available. So, he serves a purpose but not the one he thinks he does. But don't forget about the dude in the alley. He has lost a lot of blood by now, but his luck is about to change. A social worker was coming by. Now this lady was sharp and no doubt she knew some agency that could help the guy. Her importance was obvious when you looked at her black leather attache case, long coat, and the severe way her hair was pulled back tightly into a bun on the top of her head. She looked down that alley right at the boy in the pool of blood. Too bad for him that she was on her way to snatch some kids from some parents who let their kids miss too much school last month. Important stuff. He sighed as he heard the clack of her high heeled shoes on pavement fading as she walked away. By now the guy was barely breathing. All the people who were supposed to help him just glanced at him and forgot about him. He felt like a piece of human trash there in the alley. He was dizzy, dirty, and now in his own urine and blood he was going to die like a roach in a garbage can. It was then that he felt some hands on his head and shoulders. He looked up, squinting through cloudy eyes to see this black dude dressed in rags. His last bit of hope lapsed and he could not even speak to tell the man that all of his money had already been taken. The black dude put a bandana on his face and wiped away some of the blood. He then ran away. Left for dead, he had no idea how long it had been, but he woke up on a cot in the mission. The black dude was beside him with a clean wet rag, washing his wounds. He offered a sip of ice water to the man's dry lips. The black man did not say anything. He opened up the hand of the man on the cot and placed some coins in his hand, about 90 cents. He got up and left. The boy on the cot didn't know it, but the black man went back to his favorite place to beg. He brought the wounded man some of the money he had begged from others. In a few days the white dude got up from the cot and made his way back out into the street. He never again saw the black man who blessed him with unexpected mercies. But there on the other side of the street was the street preacher shouting that Jesus was coming again. He was carrying a big sign that said "Jesus Is Coming Soon." He thought to himself, "He has been here all along." (Luke 10, sort-of)