Wilson's Blessing

Light clouds covered the morning sun as we walked up 6th Street towards the Space Needle. We sniffled against the chill of the wind. Our destination had seemed much closer when we first spotted it but as we walked further we began to plan the Light Rail trip back. But it was a nice morning and the walk was good for us.

We dodged people coming out of Top Pot donuts and then crossed the street. A tall, fairly well dressed African American man approached us and said, "Good morning!" in the most genuine tone I'd ever heard. His eyes were clear and bright. 

"Good morning," we both said back with a smile.

The man stopped. He said, "Do you know that most people will only look away and keep walking?" in a very thick Nigerian accent.

We didn't know what to say so we smiled at him and shook our heads in polite disbelief.  

"It is true," he said. "And do you know that if we stop saying good morning to each other, we are breaking down our communication?"

We both nodded. It had never been something that we'd talked about, communication, but we both agree that it's important. I think most people do.

"Communication is what makes us human beings. The way we communicate," he said.

"It is," I said.

"I am homeless and hungry," the man said. "It is like being at the bottom of the mountain, looking up at the top, and there is no way to get there."

The man extended his hand to shake mine. "I am Wilson. What is your name?"

"Jessica."

"And you, sir?" he said, turning to my sweetie.

"Mike."

"You two are good people, I can see this." He met our eyes with his. "I am hungry. Do you have any money that you can share with me so that I can eat?"

Without hesitation, Mike and I rummaged in our pockets and purse. I found a snickers bar (my emergency stash) and a SoyJoy bar that I'd picked up at the Emerald City Comicon. I handed them over. Mike found a five dollar bill in his pocket. "Get yourself some  McDonalds or something." There was no doubt in our hearts that Wilson would squander what we’d given him. We both tossed in a couple of cigarettes for him because cigarettes in Seattle are expensive.

"Thank you very much," he said. "This will give me energy for another day." He bowed his head to us a little.

"You're welcome," Mike and I said at the same time.

"Jessica and Mike," he said, his accent fully engaged, "I am going to give you a blessing. Not just a blessing for you, but for your whole families."

We both stood smiling at Wilson. Sunlight broke through a spot in the clouds. I laughed inwardly at the change in the overcast sky.

Wilson said, "May God bless your lives with happiness and may your faces always be like this.” He stopped and looked at our faces, which I must admit did feel more joyful than usual. “You have shared with me. May God bless you."

It was a powerful feeling, being blessed by a total stranger. I know that it happens all the time, but Wilson's blessing felt different to me. It came from gratitude. It came from honesty. It came from someone who had nothing but a blessing to give.

Wilson thanked us again before walking away with the same vitality he'd walked to us.

Mike and I walked to the Space Needle and took some pictures. We talked about Wilson, but not about his message of communicating. We talked about him, the wonder of him.

May God bless Wilson and help him reach the top of the mountain.