My Dad and I had Edmonton Eskimo season's tickets throughout the 1960's. Their home field back then was Clarke Stadium.
We were returning home from a game one evening when a shabbily dressed man approached us. He asked my Dad, "Sir, could you spare a dollar? I haven't eaten in a couple of days and..."
Trying to appear grown up, I told the man to "get lost and get a job". I've never forgotten the look of disappointment in my Dad's eyes.
"Forgive him," he said to the man. He then gave him a five dollar bill and all the change from his pocket. The man thanked him and walked away. We continued on our way to the car until my Dad stopped me.
"Do you know why that fellow asked me for money?" I said I didn't for sure, but I figured he'd use it for booze.
"That's actually none of your business and it's probably not true. Do you realize how easily that fellow could be me? Do you get that?"
I was shocked. "Well no, of course not. You'd never let that happen."
"It wouldn't be my choice but what if I lost my job? If I wasn't able to find another one quickly and missed a couple of house payments, we'd be without a home. I'd become overwhelmed and who knows? Maybe I'd start drinking, just to feel a little relief, and no-one would hire me even if I was qualified. It wouldn't take long to run out of friends and family to help, especially if I was constantly boozing it up. Before long I'd be in that fellows shoes, asking strangers for help. Can you think of what else I could do?"
I couldn't imagine an alternative and I said as much. I was suddenly overwhelmed with shame.
"Look," he said, "there's a saying. 'There but for the grace of God goes you or I.' Try to remember that."
From that day forward I looked at people differently. Fate can be cruel and we should never lose sight of that. We can prepare as much as we like but in end, we have little control over our fate. Helping others when you're able isn't a "fix" per se, but it certainly doesn't hurt.
